Cooking Chaos
by ForDemFeels
Summary: What do you get when you add two sexy drool-licious boys and a kitchen together? Trouble and dirty fun, that's what. Meet Matt and Mello as they fight obstacles to stay alive in the kitchen of terror...or risk being burned. Yaoi and BoyXBoy.
1. Chapter 1: News

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or its- wait, you don't care? Me neither. So let's move on with the story and skip all the unnecessary introductions, shall we?**

**Note: In the first part of the story, Matt and Mello haven't met yet. **

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><p><span>Cooking Chaos, Chapter One<span>

"What the hell did you just say?"

A certain blond-haired chocoholic was now hovering above a seated elderly man named Roger. With such noticeable teal-colored eyes and silky blond hair, it was hard not to notice the guy who was notorious for being the crankiest man in the whole orphanage. Giving the stunned man a death glare, Mello arched his head up and bit his lip intimidatingly.

"Listen, Roger, I can't cook to save my pathetic life," he hissed with a venomous tone in his voice.

"…Wait, Mello," Roger took a deep breath to calm himself down. Gesturing towards the seat in front of him, he coughed. "Please sit down, and maybe we can calmly discuss this issue."

Grumpily, Mello relaxed his stance and plopped himself onto the chair right in front of him. Folding his arms, he took out a bar of milk chocolate and bit off a chunk.

"Now spit it out. Why this out of a sudden?"

"As the second most intelligent person in Wammy's House, you are required to go through a number of courses from embroidery to cooking," Roger exhaled sharply, looking at the blond in the eye. "It is our job to groom your skills, Mello. Please co-operate for once." He rubbed his temple as he waited for a response, trying to curb his pounding headache.

_Why is Mello so stubborn and difficult? Can't he be more like Near? If I tolerate this any longer, I'm going to go mad one day. I swear._

"…Do I look like I give a damn about cooking? I'm willing to make an exception for _this._" Mello snarled, looking away from the old man with defiant eyes. "I don't care if I'm second or not. If you want, you can send that stupid twit to that course, instead."  
>Roger frowned. "Mello, do not speak of Near that way."<p>

"Fuck this! It's all Near that Near that! Give me a break already, old man. I'm a man. And men don't cook," the chocoholic gritted his teeth, stamping his foot in frustration. "We leave it to the girls."

Roger sighed resignedly, watching him. This was hopeless. At this rate, he was never going to convince him.

"Well, at least I can enlighten you on what you'll learn there," he said hopefully, flipping through some documents on his desk.

Mello raised his head and eyed him, curiosity present in his beautiful blue eyes. "Tell me," he urged impatiently.

"Let's see," Roger mumbled. "You'll learn how to cook simple dishes and bake cakes."

"…Like?" Mello rolled his eyes as he swallowed the last bite of his chocolate.

"Chocolate fudge cakes, chocolate muffins, chocolate-coated strawberries, chocolate…"

Mello's eyes lit up as soon as he heard his favourite word. He grinned devilishly.

"Say no more. I'm…in," he declared, crossing his legs. "Now let's get on with the shit."

Roger smiled, satisfied. He had a hunch that it would work. Actually, Mello wasn't that hard to please after all, if you knew what he liked or disliked.

"I'm happy that you decided to cooperate, Mello. Now let me tell you the details." Mello grunted, indicating that he was listening.

"…I have arranged a meeting with your partner tonight at eight o' clock sharp in the conference room. You'll go there to meet him, and hopefully, get to know each other well. This is very important- you must get along well with him to make life easier for yourself." _Although technically, that's impossible for Mello, _Roger thought.

Mello snorted. "Whatever. What's his name?" He dug his hands into his pocket and pulled out another bar of chocolate.

"Let's see...he's called Mail Jeevas."

"…_Jeevas…_what?" Mello spluttered out, his eyes wide. "Who the hell is he?"

"You'll see tonight. Now get going," Roger instructed. "I'll give you further details tomorrow."

Mello stood up suddenly, the silence broken by the creaking of the chair he was seating on. "Yeah whatever," he replied casually, biting off a mouthful of chocolate. "I'm going to go sleep."

* * *

><p><em>Mail Jeevas, huh. <em>Mello let his mind wander as he headed back to his room. _Weird name for a guy. Who the hell is he? Somehow, it seems familiar, but I can't fucking remember. Goddamn it! _He was getting pretty pissed with himself. Slamming open the door, he entered his room with loud and brash footsteps.

_Damn. This cooking course sounds like shit, _he thought grumpily. _The only thing that is helping is the chocolate recipes._

He threw himself on his bed and closed his eyes, letting his hair fall to the middle of his face.

_Mail Jeevas. Mail. Mail. Mail. Mail. Jeevas. Jeevas. Jeevas. Jeevas. Mail Jeevas._

…

"FUCK IT!" he growled loudly, slamming his fist on the bedside table. "I CAN'T FUCKING SLEEP!"

Cussing, he straightened the folds on his leather jacket and got out of bed, his mood as bad as ever. The clanking of his boots could be heard as he stomped out of the room, his eyes determined.

_I'm going to find out who the hell is that Mail Jeevas. _He walked down the aisle with heavy footsteps. _Then maybe I can get some well-deserved rest._

After walking for minutes, he stopped in front of the Wammy's ranking chart which was framed on the walls of the corridor and let his eyes wander down the list of names.

"Let's see…that moron, me, and …Matt?" he voiced aloud, confusion sounding in his tone. "Never met him before…oh well, he's a rank below me, so why should I care? I only have to focus on that…brat," he hissed at the mention of Near.

As he read the names off the long list one by one, something struck him as strange. There was no one by the name of Mail Jeevas. Mello scowled and ran through the list again, his forehead creasing.

_Is he even in Wammy's? I can't find his freaking name. I doubt he's even in here. Is this a fucking joke? Is Roger playing tricks on me? Bitch, please. He'd better not._

…_What the hell, this is stupid. _He walked away, biting his lips.

_Or maybe…he's…that… Matt guy? M and M…_

"Whatever," Mello grunted as he headed back to his room. "I'll find out later. Sleep comes first."

* * *

><p>Mello huffed as he scrambled around the place, looking for the conference room. With shaky hands, he ran his fingers through his hair briskly, making sure it looked presentable. He had forgotten to comb it.<p>

"Shit, I overslept," he snarled. "It's 8.30pm already."

…

…

After minutes of hurrying about, he finally reached the front if the conference room. Catching his breath, he tried to compose himself.

_This is it, Mello. Show the kid who's the boss, _he thought silently to himself as he held his breath, swinging open the door to his fate.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews are appreciated! It's only going to get more exciting from here onwards. <strong>


	2. Chapter 2: Strain

**Sorry for the long wait…I kinda put this story off for about…2 weeks? Well, here's chapter 2! Enjoy.**

**Mello: *scowls* why am I such a bitch in this story?**

**Me: Come on Mello, you know you're sexy when you act this way! ^^**

**Mello: Hmph.**

**Matt: I KNOW RIGHT! …ouch, Mells, go easy on my ass!**

**Me: …nevermind…let's resume with the story.**

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><p><span>Cooking Chaos Chapter Two<span>

…

Seated in the corner of the conference room was a man.

A man with red hair.

Striking, red hair.

A red and black long striped top accompanied with a furry vest, dark pants, boots, and black gloves.

This had to be Mail Jeevas.

_So this is him._

Mello crinkled his nose and scrutinized the man carefully, noting his appearance.

He had astonishingly red hair which swept down the sides of his face with graceful curls and he worse orange-colored goggles which hid his eyes, though it was still quite visible. He wore boots and gloves like him, and apart from all of that, it was his actions that got the chocoholic's attention.

The man was seated on a two-seater sofa, his back hunched over. He was holding a DS console in his hands tightly, and it looked like it would snap into half any time if he wasn't careful. He was so tall and lanky that it made his posture look a bit…awkward. Like a squatting child. His face was blank, deeply absorbed in the game.

Mello took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"Oi, you," he said, breaking the silence. The cold wind whipped at his face as he waited for a reply.

The gamer slowly looked up, pausing his game as he did so.

Then, he caught sight of Mello. He smiled.

"…Hello Mello," he called out casually, taking the blond-haired man by surprise. "How are you?" he waved one free hand in the air, a friendly smile plastered onto his face.

Mello's eyes widened. No one had dared to speak so …casually with him before. This was a first.

_What the hell is this feeling? This is so fucking weird. Nobody dared to speak to me in such a tone before. Why is this guy acting so…special? And how in the world does he know my name?_

Mello looked away indifferently as he found a seat which was far away from the gamer.

"Hn," he replied, sitting down. His face was sour, like always.

Matt stared at him in surprise, the tension between them increasing a ton. He was expecting a reaction, but was caught by surprise when he didn't reply. He let his arm fall awkwardly to his side and looked away, sighing openly. Minutes later, sounds could be heard emitting from his DS.

Mello scowled, crossing his legs and folding his arms. He didn't like this. Not one bit.

"Is your name Mail Jeevas?" he asked, a menacing tone present in his voice. The silence was broken, and the tension worse than ever.

"Yep. But I prefer to be referred to as Matt," Matt replied without looking up from his game.

_So this is my fucking partner? The one who got third place in Wammy's?_

…

"I didn't know that you ranked third in Wammy's."

"Yea, I don't really go around telling people that…"

"Look at me. When I'm talking. To _you_," Mello emphasized the syllables slowly, his tone venomous.

"Can't. I'm in the middle of beating this Boss Level!" Matt replied, oblivious to his anger. Jumping up suddenly, he started yelping at the top of his voice. "YES! OOH! I'M GOING TO WIN!"

…

_This bitch._

Mello was getting more pissed every passing second. This guy. This _guy _seemed oblivious to his presence. He was different from the rest. While others would cower in the face of Mello, he still dared to act so casually in front of the chocoholic. Yes, he was different and intriguing, even. But this was unacceptable. Mello's breathing grew more rapid as he stared daggers at the innocent-looking gamer.

He stood up suddenly and walked over to the gamer with menacing footsteps. Matt didn't even look up as the blond towered over him, his eyes threatening to bulge out of his skull. His breathing was so fast that even Matt himself had trouble counting the number of breaths he took.

Finally, Mello blew up. He snatched the console out of Matt's gloved hands.

The red-haired man paused abruptly, as if he had sat on something nasty.

"Listen, you moron," Mello leaned forward and positioned his head close to his ear. "I don't like you. Not. One. Bit. I don't like how you act so casual in front of me and feel nothing about it. You're different. And somehow, it pisses me off."

Matt remained silent and kept his gaze forward, his smile long gone. He felt the intimidating hot breath on his neck as the blond talked in a low, hushed whisper. His words were full of venom, hot and fresh from the cauldron.

"…but we're partners for the whole _fucking _cooking course thing, and I don't want YOU to make things difficult for ME. So just keep out of my way, and you'll be safe," Mello hissed. "Got that?"

* * *

><p>"Please have a seat, Mail Jeevas," Roger urged, gesturing across the room. "It's hard to have a proper conversation with you this way."<p>

"Please, call me Matt." The redhead smiled pleasantly and settled down into a plush and comfy chair. Moments later, his fingers twitched and involuntarily found their way to the gaming console in his vest's front pocket. He immediately took it out and started tapping buttons.

_Di di di di di di di_

"Very well, Matt. I have a few questions for you. How did the 'meeting' with Mello go? Did he cause any trouble for you?"

_Di di di di di di di di di di tap di di tap di tap di_

"...Matt?" Roger raised his voice a notch when no reply came. "Did you hear—"

_Di di di di di di di di tap too di di di di di di_

"…MATT!"

"Yes?" the redhead didn't even look up.

"Please answer my question."

_Di di di di di di di di_

"And stop that irritating noise, please. It's hurting my ears," the old man said sternly, his impatience getting the better out of him.

"Can't," Matt raised an arm casually. "I'm beating a boss level I lost earlier."

Roger pondered this for a second, his fingers rubbing the surface of his old and wrinkly chin. "Ah...Mello made things difficult for you, I presume?"

_Di di di di di di…tap_

Matt paused his game suddenly and placed his console back into his pocket. He kept his stare straight ahead, looking at nothing in particular. It was hard to read his current expression- normally; it was easy for others to read his face. But it was different this time. Matt didn't know what to think.

"His personality is a bit…over the top, but he's not bad," he replied after some contemplating. "I was expecting some form of hostility, but he really surprised me." A chuckle.

Roger's eyebrows twitched, and his weather-beaten face turned black.

"Don't mind Mello. He's a really competitive boy, and we've been trying to keep him in check for the past few years."

"I can tell." The gamer's face was still unreadable.

Roger sighed and dug his hands into a suitcase. Seconds later, he emerged with a few documents. Matt deemed them as important, and straightened himself up curiously.

"There's a task for the both of you before you two can enter this cooking course."  
>"What is it?"<p>

"It'll be a good chance for you and Mello to get to know each other better. We need you both to go grocery-shopping. The instructor doesn't provide the ingredients, by the way. The students have to go buy them themselves."

"So…what's the list?" Matt's eyes widened.

"Chocolate syrup and a box of strawberries. It's pretty simple, actually. Not a problem, since there's chocolate inside the list."

Matt's eyes shone. "Does Mello like chocolate?"

"…Yes."

"I knew it," Matt smiled, standing up. "When do we leave?"

"The ingredients have to be bought by 12a.m. tomorrow."

"Sure thing," the redhead replied, waving his hands as he prepared to leave the room. "Seeya, Roger."

Roger smiled in return. Matt was just so easy to talk to.

...

He changed his mind about him as soon as he thought back to the conversation.

"Damn teenagers and their stupid consoles," he muttered, making sure that Matt had left the room.

* * *

><p><strong>End of Chapter 2! Short, I know. But I'll make it up to you in the next chapter. <strong>

**Now, I know the relationship between the two boys we all love (M&M) seems really…tense and what's not, but it'll improve over time. What, did you expect them to kiss and make up as soon as they first meet each other?**

…**I know I did. Hehe. Awh, I love this couple so much.**

**Reviews are appreciated! See you in the next chapter ^^**


	3. Chapter 3: Madness

**Damn. I seriously love reviews. They really bring a smile to my face. Immediately after reading the new reviews I got for this story, I opened up Microsoft Word and…tada! New chapter! If I get more reviews I'll update faster ^^ **

**Should I rate this story as M? There might be a lemon in the future…I don't know for sure, though. Do you guys want a squeaky-clean or a lemon-juicy story? **

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

Mello's POV

Fuck this shit.

I walk along the corridor with heavy eye bags, resisting the urge to punch something. Something. Anything. Just give me a freaking Near-doll already. It's six in the morning and I'm wide awake. I can't sleep. And my mood is as sour as ever. No, it's not PMS. I'm just having a ridiculously bad day.

I run my fingers through my bed-hair, trying to straighten the curly strands of yellow. Damn, they keep bouncing up every time I try to make them straight. God.

…Near is as straight as my hair now.

Hah.

I snigger at my own joke as I head towards the snack bar with heavy footsteps. I need chocolate, now. I mean right now. Did I mention that I _cannot _live a second without the delicious, brown chunk of milky goodness?

"Give me a bar of milk chocolate," I demand as I saunter up to the counter, resting my hands on the wooden surface. "_Upsized,"_ I add. My craving for chocolate is rising. I cannot stand it anymore.

"I'm sorry," the girl at the counter says. "We're currently out of chocolate. Our supplier forgot to deliver them today."

My eyelids twitch involuntarily.

One.

Two.

Three.

…

"Give me."

"Huh? W-what do you mean, Mister?" the girl at the counter cowers under my stare.

"I said give it to me."

"…what?"

"…I SAID, GIVE ME THE FUCKING CHOCOLATE!" I yell, feeling the vein in my forehead pop. "BITCH! I DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHETHER THE SUPPLIER FORGOT OR NOT! I WANT CHOCOLATE! DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I'M MELLO! I RANK SECOND IN THIS SHITTY PLACE! SO YOU'D BETTER GET THE MILK OR ELSE…" I hold a gun up to her head, my body quivering. "…you die, bitch."

* * *

><p><span>Matt's POV<span>

I light a cigarette and place it between my lips, taking in a deep breath as I do so.

Here I am. In my room. Thinking about how to approach a certain someone.

Yes, Mello. I cannot get him off my mind. That guy is crazy. And I mean absolutely scary.

He's hot-tempered, mad, weird, cranky and an ass; all in one. I don't know how to approach him, much less talk to him. After yesterday, I can now understand the true wrath of P.M.S.

I exhale and watch the smoke from my cigarette surround me. I cannot sleep at all, with all these thoughts haunting me like a ghost. Standing up, I get dressed and leave the room.

My footsteps echo across the hallway. Brushing a strand of red hair away from my face, I pursue my lips.

Damn, I have nice hair. I wonder if I have any fangirls?

I shake the thought away from my mind and think about what to do next.

It's still early, so I bet Mello's still asleep. I have to think of a way to convince him to go grocery-shopping with me. It won't be easy.

Well, who cares? I'm hungry now, and I'm up for a light snack. I walk in the direction of the snack bar with my hands in my vest pockets. My footsteps ring in my ear.

…

Wait, it isn't footsteps. I hear screaming and…cuss words?

I race towards the snack bar at the speed of lightning. Something is wrong, and I know it. My stomach churns wildly. This voice is distinctively familiar…

I squint my eyes and widen them instantly as soon as I realise what is happening.

Mello. With a gun. And a hostage.

I leap forward with all my might.

* * *

><p><span>Third Person's POV<span>

"Mello!" the voice rang out shrilly as the chocoholic continued swearing at the poor girl-all because of chocolate. Things got to the point where he actually held a gun to her head. Threatens, cussing and demands were heard from all directions. Many customers had escaped from the snack bar, and it was now empty with the exception of a madman and a counter girl.

Matt stiffened upon seeing the scene. Chairs were strewn everywhere. He was now really sure that _this _man needed serious anger-management problems.

"MELLO." Matt repeated, his voice an octave lower. "Put the gun down."

Mello turned and, upon seeing the gamer, glared daggers at him. His hand did not move from the petite girl's head.

"Fuck you, Matt. I want my chocolate." The blonde-haired boy snarled menacingly. With his hair styled crazily like that, he looked like a hooligan. Matt ignored this fact as he approached the duo cautiously.

"Are you kidding me, Mello? You're doing this just for chocolate? This is an offense, Mells. You'll go to jail for this. Don't be foolish."

"…Mells?" Mello spat angrily, his face visibly redder. Shoving the counter girl away from him, he lowered his gun and stepped forward with bold footsteps. The leather he was wearing gave him a dark aura- darker than the one that was surrounding him now.

Matt covered his mouth upon realizing what he had just said. "Erm, I mean Mello," he corrected, feeling quite intimidated by his glare. The redhead held his arms up as the chocoholic prowled towards him, with eyes so menacing that it rivaled that of a raven's.

_Well, at least his attention is not on the girl now, _Matt noted silently to himself as he backed away slowly.

"Mello? P-put that gun down, please. It's scaring me," Matt breathed, watching the blonde man with wary eyes.

"What's your point, bitch? I believe I told you not to cause me any trouble," Mello gave a feral growl as he advanced upon the gamer with twitching eyebrows.

"I-I'm trying to help you, partner! If you have any problems about cooking, we can consult each other…"

"That's not the fucking problem."

At that instant, Matt remembered the slip of paper that Roger had given to him not long ago. He dug into his pocket and pulled it out, almost ripping it in the process.

He narrowed his eyes and read it briefly.

_SOS paper for Mello's partners_

_Note:Read this If you're in a fix. Your partner is very temperamental, grouchy and impulsive. Do not anger him in any way. I have confiscated all of his firearms. Well, hopefully I did. _

_Weapons he may use on you, and what you should do_

_Nails- Avoid him at all costs. Throw a bar of chocolate not far from him to distract him. Then run. _

_Boots- He has a tendency to hit people with his rock-hard leather boots. Take cover under a sturdy object._

_Fist/legs – He hits hard. Defend yourself with self-defense moves to avoid being slammed into the ground head-first._

_Guns- I hope you will never read this part of the SOS paper. If he is pointing it at you and your back is against the wall, say something witty, something that will make him stop and ponder. Then, run as fast as you can away from him. _

_Suggested words: Chocolate._

_Words you should never say: Near, girl, man, PMS, cranky, woman, Jello_

_Good luck._

Matt cussed and folded the paper, putting it back into his pocket. "That didn't help at all," he muttered to himself. His footsteps became more panicked as he edged away from the chocolate-deprived man.

_I'm so fucked. I'm so fucked. I'm so fucked. I'm so fucked._

…

_Wait, if he was throwing a fuss at the snack bar- that means…_

"Chocolate!" the redhead blabbered incoherently. "Let's go have some chocolate, Mello!"

"You bit…wait, what?" Mello's eyes widened a bit, his interest piqued. "What did you say?" He lowered his gun slightly.

"Let's go have chocolate! I mean, let's go buy some chocolate at the grocery store…" Matt stuttered. This was it. This would decide his fate. Would he die or live to learn how to cook?

The blond chocoholic raised his eyebrows quizzically.

_C_

_H_

_O_

_C_

_O_

_L_

_A_

_T_

_E_

…

…

…

"Sure thing," Mello grinned widely, lowering his gun completely. He stopped advancing towards a terrified Matt and folded his arms. "I thought you were a jerk who didn't know a shit about me. You're not so bad for third place after all," he smirked, brushing his hair away from his eyes. "Let's go. I don't like to wait."

Matt's jaw dropped as he watched the man turn his back on him, the gun in his hands now gone. The sudden mood change frightened yet fascinated the redhead. You could literally see flowers dancing around the blond- haired man. Was this miracle of life even possible?

He was about to remind the chocoholic about the mess that he had left behind but decided against it when he turned his head and stared daggers at him.

"Are. You. Coming. Or. Not?" Mello demanded with narrowed eyes.

"Ah, fuck it," Matt mumbled inaudibly before standing up. "I'm coming," he announced, running to catch up with him.

* * *

><p>…<strong>The End.<strong>

**This chapter was mainly for the laughs. It took me a long time to type up this chapter because it was hard coming up with new ideas. T^T**

**Please do not say it is too 'OOC' for Mello to do such a thing. This is Mello we're talking about, guys. Besides, it's all for the sake of plot humor! ^^**

**Review and maybe I'll be motivated to post a new chapter tomorrow ^3^**


	4. Chapter 4: Blast Off

**Note: Due to schoolwork and stuff, I'll be updating every Saturday (or Sunday).**

**Enjoy the new chapter ^^**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Four<span>

_Matt's POV_

I think I am going mad.

Who the hell pulls out a gun and starts a riot when there is no freaking chocolate supply?

Yea, only one man does it.

Enter: Mello, my partner for the cooking course. A lunatic who suffers from Low-On-Dairy PMS syndromes. In need of serious help; and by that I mean anger management problems. I have never met such an obnoxious man in my whole life. I wonder how he's like in the kitchen? I mean, would he set fire to the stove in an attempt to kill me?

I stare at the blond-haired man with my tongue pressed to the sides of my cheeks.

"Mello?"

He looks up and glares at me, his back hunched over. "What?"  
>"Please stop."<br>"Stop what?"

"Stop stuffing the basket with chocolate bars!" I raise my voice a notch, irritation coating my eyes. He was literally clearing the shelves, leaving it empty with only a few bars of chocolate left. The basket in his hands was now filled to the brim with milky goodness.

"Shut the hell up," Mello growled angrily. "Just because I didn't kill you back there doesn't make us friends now. You're still a freak; your opinions do not matter." He ignores my stunned expression and tosses the basket at me. "Let's go pay."

I stumble to catch the basket, my feet wobbling. It weighed a ton. Slowly, I set it on the floor and heave a sigh.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" Mello asks impatiently.

"We still need to get the chocolate syrup and strawberries…"

He gives me a weird look. "Why do we need those?"

"Roger said that the instructor doesn't provide the ingredients for us- we're supposed to buy them ourselves before every lesson. For now we need chocolate syrup and a box of strawberries," I reply, grabbing the basket before standing up.

Mello sinks a hand into the basket and begins to unwrap a chocolate bar, much to my surprise. I don't say anything.

"Stingy bitch," he says with a crooked smile. I note his sudden change in attitude with narrowed eyes.

"The _she _might be a _he,"_ I chuckle, heading towards the fruits section.

"No shit. I'll go get the goddamn syrup." I turn around and watch him gallop off, amusement coating my features.

Hey, he's actually a pretty good guy, apart from all the swearing and the cussing. You just have to know when not to piss him off. Thinking back to yesterday, I shake my head in a futile attempt to get it off my mind.

Maybe he's just hostile towards strangers. After we get used to each other's presence, we might get along fine…I hope. But he doesn't consider me as a friend yet. Not yet.

I unconsciously smile to myself as I pick out the freshest box of strawberries and place it gingerly into the heavy basket.

…

…But wait, about just now…

We are so _fucking _dead when we get back to Wammy's.

* * *

><p>"Will you two please explain the situation?"<p>

I begin to sweat profusely as I glance at Mello, waiting for an answer. How could that man look so composed and calm, especially in this situation? We're about to die. We're about to be sent to live in a jail cell to rot for the rest of our lives.

NO, DAMN! I still haven't beaten the final boss level of Super Mario Bros yet!

Instinctively, I whip out my DS and begin tapping on the buttons furiously, leaving the answering session all up to Mello.

_Di di di di di di di di di di_

Roger buries his face into his hands suddenly, letting out a groan. Why does he do that? My eye twitches as I ponder his actions, but I remain silent anyway. Now, on to the important stuff…

I listen closely for Mello's reply.

_Crunch._

He bites off a chunk of milk chocolate, a nonchalant look on his face.

"We're being interrogated by an old man," he replies, a sarcastic tone in his voice. He thinks he's so smart. I resist the urge to snort like a hog.

Roger shakes his head resignedly. "That's not it, Mello. Let me explain the current situation to you. Witnesses have claimed to have seen you both at the scene. Apparently, you were threatening the girl at the counter with a gun. For what, I do not know. The girl is now in the hospital because she is suffering from severe trauma. What do you have to say about that?"

Mello shrugs. "That I don't give a fuck_?"_

…

"MELLO!" Roger almost yells, his face red. "Mind your language!"

"HA! HA! HA! HA! Nice one, Mello!" I crack up hysterically, the DS shaking violently in my hands.

"Shut up, Mail. I didn't ask for your opinion."

"Oh." I let my shoulders drop, embarrassment coating my eyes. "Sorry."

"Matt, you're not totally innocent either."

I jerk up from my seat upon hearing my name. What in the world…?

"Why not, Roger?"  
>"You didn't do anything to save the situation."<p>

"What the fuck? YOU'RE THE GUILTY ONE!" I point a finger at the old man accusingly. "Your stupid SOS note did _nothing_ to help me! I demand compensation!"

Roger narrows his eyes. "For?"

"Wastage of paper! The loss of pitiful trees- OW, WHAT THE HELL?" I wince as I feel a sharp pain near the back of my head.

I turn towards Mello with gritted teeth. No one had dared to slap me before. "What the hell was that for, Mello?"  
>Mello's eyes turn into thin slits of cerulean blue. "That's not the fucking problem, Jee."<p>

"It's JEEVAS!"

"Whatever."

Roger slams his fist on the table, sending the both of us flying into the air.

"FOCUS, YOU TWO! Do you both realise the trouble that you are in? Mello, you will be punished for possessing a firearm and threatening others. Also, your firearm will be confiscated. As for Matt, you are punished for being _utterly _and _completely _useless! Both of you, return to your rooms. You are all grounded for a _month."_

"What about the cooking course?" I ask worriedly.

"You guys still have to attend it. It starts tomorrow. For now, you guys are sent to your rooms."

Mello scowls. "Fuck it."

I pursue my lips. This punishment wasn't that bad after all. I seldom leave the orphanage, anyway. This would make no difference to my life. I stand up abruptly and follow the blond chocoholic out of the door.

But this time, it's different…

* * *

><p><span>Mello's POV<span>

"Why the hell are you following me, dope?" I raise my eyebrows as I notice the gamer scampering behind me. He stops suddenly and lets out a foolish grin.

"Eh…I have nowhere else to go."

"We're supposed to return to our rooms." I roll my eyes. Is this guy stupid or what?

"Erm…I mean…can I go to your room, Mello? I'll feel lonely if I'm coped up in my room all day playing games." He pouts childishly, sending a weird tingly down my spine. I don't like this one bit.

"No," I snarl, walking away from him. "And stop giving me that weird-ass look."

"Please, Mello! Since we're partners…"

"No. And we're not friends, either," I growl as he runs after me. "Stop following me. Scram."

"I won't leave!"

Not bothering to reply, I head towards my room and forcefully push open the door. As expected, the man enters the room after me. I cuss under my breath as I slam the door shut. _It's dark in the room, _I note as I switch on all of the lights.

_Di di di di di di di di di di_

I turn around and spot the red-haired gamer on my bed, tapping away happily at some gaming console shit. I immediately walk up to him and snatch the darn thing out of his hands.

"Hey!"

"GET OFF MY BED," I hiss menacingly, giving him a death glare. "NOW."

He blatantly refuses, and locks his eyes onto me.

This bitch. He thinks we're on friendly terms just because I didn't kill him earlier? I resist the urge to punch him in the face as he continues to give me that weird-ass look. Now, he's just acting cute-wait, why the hell did I even call his acting cute? I must be sick in the head. Sick in the gut. Damn this. Fuck the cooking shit course.

The tension in the air rises considerably.

But, wait. As we continue to glare at each other, I notice the color of his eyes which are hidden beneath his stupid orange goggles.

Green, _the color of grass_, I note to myself.

Matt does the same.

"Hey, Mello, you have blue eyes and I have green ones! What does that make us?"

I relax my stance a little. "What?"

"…It makes me a grass pokemon and you, a water pokemon! And guess what? Grass _always _beats water!" the redheaded idiot chuckles like a maniac.

My forehead creases. "What the fuck is your point, you shithead?"

Matt laughs heartily, clutching his stomach. "If we were paired up as a yaoi couple, I would be seme and you would be uke, Mello!"

…

…

…

I fling that idiot across the room with full force.

* * *

><p><strong>Matt, you need to learn how to control your big mouth, you silly rabbit. Stop pissing your wife off!<strong>

**Matt: Nomnomnomnom.**

**Mello: Not funny.**

**Lol. Review for a cookie. 8D**


	5. Chapter 5: Surprise

**New chapter! ~**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Five<span>

_Di di di di di di di di_

"Seriously, Mail. Can you put down that darn thing of yours for even a few seconds?"

A certain redhead abruptly stopped in his tracks and placed the gaming console which was in his hands on the concrete floor, much to the chocoholic's surprise.

He winked. "Mission accomplished."

Mello, upon seeing this, resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Not funny."

"Well, you told me to put it _down,_" Matt shrugged and picked up his console before burying it into the back pocket of his furry vest. "And we have nothing to do anyway."

"We're reaching the kitchen already, damn it." Mello growled as he fingered the bag of supplies in his hands.

"Hey, chill," Matt held his arms up into the air, as though he was about to surrender. "Remember, water pokemon are gentle and quiet…"

"Shut the hell up."

* * *

><p>"Are you ready?"<p>

Mello nodded and stepped forward.

Then, the geniuses held their breaths as they pushed the door open with firm hands.

…

What greeted them instantly was cold, freezing air.

The tension in the air was formidable as the duo stepped inside the room which stunk of a woman's perfume. Matt gagged, oblivious to the number of stares that were directed at him.

As he was busy trying the free himself of the horrible scent, Mello squinted his eyes and scrutinized their cooking instructor with hostile eyes.

_Long blond hair which are tied in pigtails_, he noted softly to himself, his eyes narrowed. _Eyes which are a mix between light-brown and blue. Lolita- styled clothing, high heels and a ridiculously short miniskirt which shows about fifty-percent of her revolting bare skin._

"Are you our instructor?" Mello asked in a condescending tone, the silence broken.

The girl chuckled cheekily and waved her hands in the air, her hips shaking from side to side as she did so.

"_Hai! _I'm Misa Amane, your cooking instructor! But you can refer to me as Misa-Misa!" her voice came out as squeaky as can be. Mello flinched as the high-pitched tone tone vibrated his eardrums.

"I dislike her already," he grumbled to himself.

"Why? She's pretty hot," Matt chuckled out of nowhere, his breath hot on Mello's neck. The blond chocoholic instinctively jumped.

"Don't scare me like that, bitch." He eyed the gamer with stern eyes as he struggled to regain his composure. _Since when did he end up beside me?_

"Oh, sorry."

The flustered instructor let out a girlish squeak. "A-are you both okay? Misa-Misa is worried! Please don't fight while you are in the kitchen! You may accidentally set fire to the stoves!"

Mello narrowed his eyes as he let them roam over the many stoves that were placed in different parts of the room.

"Whatever. Where's our table?"

"Ummm…well, I think its table five!" the sickening girly voice came again. He cussed under his breath and tried his best to control his frustration.

"Come on, you dope," Mello gritted his teeth as he dragged the gamer whose eyes was transfixed on the annoying female instructor to the assigned table.

_What the hell is wrong with my fucking partner?_

As they reached the table, Mello ignored the stares of the people in the room and threw his partner onto the ground forcefully, emitting a screech from the redhead.

"OW! What the heck was that for?"

The blond rolled his eyes and plopped onto a stool. "Shut the fuck up and focus, you dimwit."

Matt growled and rubbed his head grumpily. "I _was _focusing," he retorted as he pulled himself up from the floor.

"You were staring at her disgusting bare thighs, you pervert."

"Why, you-"

Matt's reply was cut short by a high-pitched squeal.

"..Okay! Misa-Misa will now start the lesson!" the instructor screeched. "As this is the first lesson, things will not be that difficult! The dish that we are making today is very simple! Listen closely to Misa, please!"

The room instantly quieted down.

Matt groaned after a short pause. "I hate her now."

Mello snickered loudly.

* * *

><p>"Okay, first! Misa-Misa wants all of you to look at the projector at the front of the classroom!"<p>

The duo looked up and stared at the overhead screen, squinting as they did so.

_Steps _

_1] Number yourselves one and two. _

"I want to be two, Mello," Matt piped up, his eyes gleaming. "Please?"

The chocoholic snorted. "No shit. I want to be two."

"I _want_ to be two!"

"Shut the hell up, you brat. I'm two and that's that."

"I'm two!"

"No."

"Yes!"

"No."

"Yes!"

"No."

"No!"

"Yes."

"AHA!" Matt yelled triumphantly, pointing a finger at the stunned chocoholic. "I'M TWO!"

"Fuck you," Mello spat angrily.

* * *

><p><em><span>Steps<span>_

_2] For Number One: Heat the chocolate syrup in a pan._

_3] For Number Two: Cut the strawberries into small slices._

Mello grinned and fingered the container of chocolate syrup in his hands while Matt headed towards the sink to wash the strawberries.

"Score one for me," the blond said smugly.

"Hmph. Who likes chocolate anyway? It just makes you fat."

"And who likes cigarettes? They just decrease your pathetic life span."

Matt huffed. "Cigarettes are the best things in the world, apart from games. You wouldn't know anything about them."

Mello's eyes twitched as he poured the syrup gingerly into the heated pan which was placed rather carelessly on the stove.

"You don't know shit about the milky goodness that is chocolate," he declared, stirring the syrup with a ladle. He inhaled the delicious scent of it and let out a dramatic sigh.

Matt pursed his lips as he kept his attention on the strawberries which he was now handling delicately, careful not to break or disfigure them. With quick, swift movements, he sliced them into thin strips of red and pink.

_Well, that was easy,_ he thought.

"I'm done, Mello."

"Well, I'm not, shithead."

The gamer chuckled as he settled himself down onto a stool casually, his arms at the back of his head. Through his orange goggles, he observed the chocoholic's movements with interest, wanting to know more about this mysterious partner of his.

"Hey, Mello."

"What?" the blond asked as he stirred the mixture continuously.

"Do you still consider me as an outsider?" Matt rubbed at his chin thoughtfully.

"…What do you mean?"

"I mean, am I okay as a partner?"

Mello snorted, pouring the heated syrup into a bowl. "You're fine as long as you don't get on my nerves."

"Really?"

"…But you're still an idiot."

The redhead smiled happily, his stomach tied in a knot.

_At least there's some progress,_ he thought.

* * *

><p><strong>End of Chapter Five!<strong>

**Review for a muffin ^^**


	6. Chapter 6: Oops

**Please, PLEASE don't kill me!**

**I went on a long break (About 3 weeks) and put this story on hold for quite a long time.**

**I'm so sorry. I'll try to update often T-T**

**Random person: Hn. **

**Me: What? *stares innocently***

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Six<span>

"Mello?"

"What."

"I'm kind of scared."

"Why?"

The red-haired gamer bit his lips anxiously. "What if we don't do well?" he said, gesturing towards the front of the classroom where their obnoxious instructor, Misa was. She was currently ticking off boxes on a checklist, scrutinizing the several plates of chocolate-coated strawberries that were placed on the table in front of her.

Mello, sensing his partner's fear, snorted loudly. "Don't make me laugh."

"What do you mean?"

"You have me. With me around, nothing will go wrong," Mello declared, pointing triumphantly at himself. "If we succeed, it will be because of my greatness, too."

It was Matt's turn to snort. "Oh really."

"Yes." Mello snickered as he observed the instructor's facial expressions carefully.

"But I was the one who decorated most of the dish."

"And I was the one to add the finishing touch," Mello narrowed his eyes.

Matt stared at the chocoholic, his eyes filled with disdain. "All you did was pour the chocolate syrup on the strawberries."

"That was the most important part of the dish, you idiot."

"Idiot? Why you-!"

"Table five!" A voice squeaked loudly. The irritated duo spun around and eyed the blond instructor with condescending glares.

"What." Mello said disinterestedly, biting off a chunk of chocolate. Matt scowled.

"Misa-Misa is done rating your work! Please take back your dish and sample it," the instructor screeched loudly, doing a little tap-dance on the spot. The chocoholic nodded briefly and walked forward to collect their dish.

The gamer's brows furrowed. "He's acting like he did all the work," he grumbled softly to himself, his arms folded. From a distance, he looked very much like a small child.

"What was that?" Mello questioned, his voice low as he walked up to him with the dish in his right hand. Matt deadpanned.

"Uhm, nothing. Let's get on to sampling our beautiful creation," he said hastily, avoiding eye-contact with the blond.

Mello huffed. "Now you've said it." His lips crinkled up at the sides involuntarily.

Matt harrumphed.

* * *

><p>"So," Roger forced a smile as the duo sauntered into the room with heavy footsteps. "How was the first lesson?" he asked casually, stirring a cup of coffee which was placed right in front of the stack of papers on his desk.<p>

"Not bad," Mello paused for a moment. "…Considering that we had the opportunity to sample our own creation."

"Ah," Roger nodded slowly. "I see."

Matt resisted the urge to roll his eyes as they both settled down on wooden stools which were conveniently placed in front of the cluttered desk for them to sit. "You mean, _my_ creation," he declared, running his fingers through his disheveled red hair.

"Oh shut up, Matt. That joke's getting old," Mello snapped, tearing open a bar of milk chocolate with relish. "You know I did all the work."

"But I got the most points for-" Matt broke off mid-sentence as he felt someone aim a sharp kick at his knee. He clutched it tightly and gave a pained gasp.

"Y-you-you!"

"I what?" Mello stared at him innocently. "What, brat?"

"Y-you…you…" Matt exhaled sharply as he rubbed his aching knee in circles, his face as red as his hair. "Y-you…cheater!"

Roger coughed loudly, straining with the effort. "Hey, now. No fighting, little ones." He sipped from his cup of coffee slowly, holding it in his hands. "You're supposed to work together."

Matt choked on thin air, rather dramatically. "B-but, he didn't even do…_ow!" _he shrieked as he felt Mello aim a blow to his head, knocking all the air out of him. He lowered his head and fell silent, far from recovering from the sudden blow.

The chocoholic gave a satisfied smile. "We are, Roger," he shrugged. "It's just that Matt has the tendency to blabber nonsense at inappropriate times."

Much to the gamer's horror, Roger nodded his head vigorously. "Yes, yes. It's perfectly understandable," he agreed. "I'm just glad to see that you guys are getting along fine."

"You have no idea," Mello deadpanned as he put his elbow on poor Matt's head and leant towards it with full strength, ignoring his protests and occasional shrieks of pain. "We get along just fine."

"I see." Roger muttered as he placed his cup of coffee down and ruffled through some papers. "That reminds me, I have a task for you both." Without waiting for a reply, he continued, "You guys have to write a report."

"A report?" Mello narrowed his eyes. "For?"

"About today's lesson," the old man squinted his eyes as he stared at a list of words. "Just write about your feelings and experiences. And what you learnt from the lesson."

"I learnt _nothing_!" Matt managed as he lifted his head up for air, but was sent down again by the weight of Mello's arm.

"So after we write that thing, do we give it to that bitch or what?" Mello questioned unenthusiastically, emphasizing on the word _bitch_. "Or you?"

Roger frowned disapprovingly. "That's not a really polite way to refer to your instructor, Mello," he said, an edge to his voice.

"She's a slut."

"She's kinda hot!"

Mello smacked Matt on his cheek instantaneously, leaving visible red marks on the delicate skin. "Don't be disgusting. I thought you were over her," he narrowed his eyes, biting off a chunk of chocolate. Matt whined in pain.

"I was only kidding!" he growled, rubbing his sore cheek. "…About the hot part," he added.

"Besides, I thought you were gay," Mello said in a smug tone.

Matt stared at Mello with a WTF look plastered onto his facial features. "What the hell?"

"Nevermind. I-d-g-a-f anyway," the chocoholic replied, a bored look on his face as he glanced at a stunned Roger. Matt shook his head.

"I swear, you're the weirdest partner ever," the redhead said in an exasperated tone. He couldn't understand the Mello's emotions. It resembled something close to a rollercoaster ride, and as much as Matt adored rollercoaster rides, he couldn't comprehend his temper. It was very much like a dominant volcano; always sleeping, yet always active.

Mello sent a glare his way. "Deal with it."

* * *

><p>Matt bit his lips as he thought of what to add in the report. They had spent the last ten minutes in Mello's room with no luck whatsoever. He was at loss as to what to write. He felt as if his brain cells had just rotted away.<p>

"What should I add in here?"

"Oh," Mello swallowed a chunk of chocolate as he contemplated what to say. "Just say we learnt a lot of things."

"Like?" Matt asked in an exasperated tone.

"Erm…that we have a very slutty woman for a teacher," he said slowly.

Matt paused, holding his pen just above a piece of paper. "…That doesn't make any sense."

Mello growled. "Yes it does. Just write it down. We have nothing else to write anyway. So I don't see why not."

"No."

"You dare defy me?" Mello threatened, an evil glint in his eyes.

"Stop being so _pushy_," Matt complained loudly, avoiding his glare. He knew that if he looked, he would feel intimidated, and the battle would be lost again. He felt that he had to put his partner into place. He'd to be taught not to treat his partners like slaves and order them around.

_Yes,_ Matt thought to himself silently. _Only I can do this!_

"Matt," Mello warned slowly. "Write it down."

"No," Matt echoed, sticking out his tongue childishly, although his heart was beating rather fast now. He felt his hands turn sweaty as he struggled to regain his composure. Defying his partner was way harder than he thought. But he was determined.

"Yes." Mello stared him down.

"No!"

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes!" he lost his temper and pounced on a shocked Matt. For a while, they wrestled with one another continuously, each fighting for dominance over the pen. Matt felt a bead of sweat drip down his face as he strained to pull the pen away from Mello's grip. He stretched his body and increased the distance between it and him considerably; panting with the amount of effort it took. Seeing this, Mello bit back a growl and threw himself at the gamer.

"Give it!" he snarled.

"_Never!" _Matt protested as he twisted his body in all sorts of crazy angles to keep the pen out of the chocoholic's reach. Mello realized, with a hint of surprise, that the gamer was surprisingly flexible.

He edged closer. "If you won't write it down, I fucking will," he demanded crossly, reaching for the pen. "So give it."

"I won't let _you_ give _me_ a bad grade!" Matt picked himself up from the ground and prepared to run for it, the pen still in his sweaty palms.

"Oh no you won't," Mello gave a feral snarl and dived towards the gamer, regretting his actions a second later when both bodies collided and sent them both towards the bed, much as he tried to avoid it.

"_Oof_!" Matt felt like the breath was knocked out of him as something hard slammed into his back and he found himself being hurled towards Mello's bed. "Shit," he mouthed as he struggled to pull away from Mello's grip, but felt himself being pulled down by gravity as he met the surface of the bed with a loud thud.

He gave a loud shriek as something heavy land on top of him and made him feel like he was being crushed by a meteor. Flinching, he tried to roll out of the way and turned his body over so that his back was facing the bed, but was a second too late.

He felt hot breaths on his cheek as he looked up and realized that the chocoholic was now positioned on top of him, in a very suggestive position. He felt his heartbeat halt to a stop and his mind go blank as Mello never released his tight hold on him, seeming as shocked as he was. They both stayed there awkwardly for quite a while, the sound of their rapid breathing breaking the silence in the room.

Mello twitched as he regained his composure and stared at the gamer with cold yet apologetic eyes. He struggled to get up, but gave an astounded grunt when he couldn't do so. He then realized, with mortification, that his partner was the cause.

He'd been holding onto his hips for who knows how long, the sleek fingers outlining the blonde's slim figure.

"Matt," Mello hissed softly. "Let. Go. Now."

The dumbfounded redhead could only stare back at him with an expression that registered dread and shock.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh my.<strong>

**So soon? o_e Damn, they sure are horny.**

**Random person: A lemon? *sounds hopeful***

**Not so soon, sadly. But I'll be changing this story's rating to a M. Their relationship has to progress first, remember?**

**Random person: *sadface***

**Don't be sad! I'll release the next chapter as soon as possible, how's that?  
>Random person: …You'd better.<strong>

**…anyway please review! ^^**


	7. Chapter 7: Vows

**I'm back!**

**Random person: So? I think nobody missed you.**

**That's what you think. Did you all miss me? ^^**

**Random person: If they do, it's only because they want to see the **_**lemon**_**.**

**What lemon? O.O**

**Random person: Matt and Mello, duh. Buttsmex.**

**But they just met not long ago! Although they're friends now…**

**Random person: I don't care. Make them hump each other already!**

**o.e … moving on to the chapter! Enjoy! This one's a bit...graphic in a violent way. **

* * *

><p><span>Seven<span>

"Mello," the gamer began, his tone soft. "I'm sorry."

"Hn." Mello ignored him completely and carried on walking ahead, his head tilted to the side. It was obvious that he was mad at him, and he made no attempt to hide his displeasure. What had seemed like a beautiful blossom of friendship was now crumbling into smithereens of gravel and soil, ceasing to exist. Matt could hardly comprehend what was happening. To him. To their relationship.

"Mello!" he quickened his pace, catching up beside the chocoholic. "Please listen to me! I-I didn't know what was happening! It was so fast and I didn't know what I was thinking…I was reckless! I did you wrong! I-"

"Shut up." Mello kept his gaze forward and increased his speed. "I want nothing to do with you."

Matt's face reddened. "But I said I was sorry! It wasn't intentional, I swear, the whole hip-holding thing…I didn't know what to think at that time. I had no intention to do anything to you, I swear…"

Mello snorted, not looking at him. "You didn't let go even when I told you to. I had to hit you senseless before you _fucking _reacted, you faggot."

Matt subconsciously let his free hand run over the edge of his lip, wincing when he felt a sharp pain racking through his body. It was worse than he thought. Blood was currently dripping down his upper lip, which was badly bruised from being punched. _It's bound to leave a scar_, he thought.

"B-but…hey wait up, Mello!" he screeched as the blond increased his pace, faster than before. He struggled to catch up, panting as he did so. "I can explain! Just hear me out-"

"Why the hell did I even bother with you? You're obviously a useless imbecile who won't listen to instructions. Get lost," Mello snarled loudly, interrupting the redhead. "You're the worst partner. _Ever. _So fucking get lost." He walked out of the building with heavy footsteps, not turning around to spare a last glance at his shocked partner.

Matt stopped trying to catch up with him and stood there, where he was, shock registering on his face. He was utterly stunned into silence. So this was what his partner thought of him all along. A useless imbecile. A fucked-up man who didn't listen to orders that his partner gave him. A person with no life whatsoever besides cooping himself up in his room playing games all day long.

_So, is he going to sever ties with me?_

Matt felt a vein throb in his forehead. What should he do? I mean, what could he do? Mello was a stubborn and stuck-up man who didn't give a damn about others. He only cared about himself. Just when the relationship was getting good. Just when he was about to win his way into the chocoholic's heart- this had to happen. The redhead could feel himself getting weak in the knees.

Then, he remembered what he had claimed before the incident had happened.

_I shall be the one. The one to show him that he can't always get what he wants._

That statement was enough to agitate him enough to scream at the blond- something he never did before, nor even dared to. But this was different.

"MELLO!" he hollered, a hint of agitation in his tone. "GET BACK HERE. NOW."

Mello ignored him and carried on walking.

It was then that Matt caved in to utter anger and disbelief.

"FUCKING BASTARD. GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE. NOW!"

That made the blond crack. He stopped in his tracks, his disheveled hair flying about as cold wind blew in his face. He turned around slowly, sending a glare the redhead's way.

It was absolutely terrifying. The coldness in those eyes- it was a force to be reckoned with. Matt could feel himself shaking with fear, the thrill of it all. Standing up to Mello; the most violent and hotheaded person in Wammy's was like cartwheeling off a eighty-story building without any protective gear. It basically meant one thing.

Death.

"What. The fuck. Did. You. Say?" Mello walked towards him slowly, his tone menacing. His eyes were colder than ever, the aura surrounding him darker and more pronounced. His lips were turned downwards at the edges, and his face was red-hot. Matt backed away slowly as he approached him, much like how a prey would react to its predator. It was hard not to feel intimidated by the sight of it all.

However, Matt reminded himself again that he had a job. It was to fix a stubborn child which a corrupted personality, though in this case, it was an adult. That gave him enough courage to stand up to the man.

"I said," Matt swallowed, "'Get your ass over here, now!'"

"That is not funny," Mello growled as he sauntered towards him. "You better take back your words, bitch, or I won't go easy on you. Even though you're my partner."

"I thought you wanted to sever ties with me just now, for a second."

"I'm considering it now, you little _shithead._"

Matt panicked when he felt his back hit something hard and solid, and realized that it was a wall. That darn thing. He squirmed and gritted his teeth when Mello cornered him, giving him no chance of escape.

_Damn it_, he thought to himself, feeling a twinge of regret. _Why did I even stand up to him? He won't let me leave alive now. I still haven't finished the game I bought last week. Now it'll go to waste, _he sighed inaudibly.

_Wait, why am I even thinking about games when I'm about to die? I must be sick in the head. Sick in the gut. This man- my partner, coincidentally, is about to hammer my head into the wall and leave it there as a form of decoration. Why am I not panicking? Why am I not worried? I'm about to die._

Despite the thoughts going on in his head, Matt actually felt a little proud for standing up to the blond. Maybe it was the feeling of having taught a child its rightful position, or maybe it was just the adrenaline of having sworn at the top of his voice. He didn't know how, but this surge of energy coming from him was suddenly erupting like an active volcano.

He kept his face straight. "You don't get what you want."

"What?" Mello squinted and glared daggers into his eyes, not feeling intimidated even though Matt towered over him.

"In life, you don't always get what you want."

In response, Mello aimed a hard punch at his nose, recoiling with the effort exerted by the hit. He watched the redhead hunch over, blood dripping from his nose like a faucet with a smirk on his face. The crimson liquid stained the polished flooring and seeped into the carpet, diluting it with the color of all things painful. Blood, that is. With blood, comes a price.

"Say that again, you little bitch," Mello growled, an edge to his tone as he stepped forward and grabbed Matt by the collar of his shirt, his hands balled into tight fists. "Say that again." He mind-fucked his eyes with his, as if daring him to speak.

Matt grunted in pain, forcing himself to look up. Touching his nose and flinching at the pain that shot through his very being, he felt something wet and moist. _Blood?_

"Come on. Speak." Mello shook him, hard. "I thought you wanted to say something, you fucktard?"

Matt remained silent, staring at the blond with a crazy look in his eyes.

Mello exhaled sharply, feeling quite wary. The redhead looked as if he had gone insane from the beating. His eyes were sharp, narrowed; turned from green to an angry red in seconds. The Red dripped down from his eyelids slowly, staining his already disheveled red hair. His lips were bruised. In fact, every part of his face was painted a light shade of purple, due to the beating he had received from Mello earlier. He took it in without a word- the pain, the hurt, the agony as the blond vented his outright anger and displeasure on him.

"SPEAK!" Mello shrieked madly, shaking him, harder this time. "I SAID, FUCKING SPEAK!"

Matt's head shook violently with the pressure, not a word emitting from him. After the shaking had ceased, however, he lifted his head up with much effort and grinned at the bewildered chocoholic with a glint in his eyes.

"I believe…I taught you how to _beg?_" he said slowly, the crazy grin still plastered on his face.

Mello yelled, shocked by the sudden retaliation as Matt aimed a blow back to his forehead, feeling the skin peel as he staggered backwards from the blow. His vision was temporarily blinded as blood trickled down his face at lightning speed- Matt didn't go easy on him, nor held back.

In an instant, the redhead's face went serious as he limped towards the blond, his lips straight.

"In life, you don't get what you want so easily. You don't _fucking_ order people around to get what you want. You don't _fucking _beat people up when you don't get what you desire. You don't _fucking _act like a total bitch when in fact, you're the one at fault," he said in a single breath, his tone sharp. "You're a man, so behave like one."

Mello's eyes went wide as he contemplated the words that came out of his mouth.

"You. Fucking. Moron. You don't know your place, yet you question my authority," Mello gritted his teeth. "I'm second in this place. You're below my rank. So just SHUT THE HELL UP!" He pounced on the gamer, knocking him to the floor. "I'LL KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD!"

It was obvious that no one had opposed him before.

Matt ducked as a punch was aimed at him, rolling out of the way. Picking himself up, he got to his feet and scrambled away, pain radiating through him like an electric shock. Tasting the blood in his mouth, he looked around for help, but was dismayed to know that they were alone. The hallways were empty. Not a sound could be heard.

Hearing a growl behind him, he realized instantly that he had pissed Mello off to the point of his limit. His intent to kill was real now; he could see it in his eyes. Hurriedly, he staggered towards the exit of the building, hoping to ask for help outside.

"So close."  
>"Re-reaching…"<p>

He felt the breath being knocked out of him as a blunt object hit him at the back of his head. He could almost feel his skull being cracked open, the impact so hard that it made him see stars in his vision. Coughing out blood, he tried to resist fate, but failed miserably. He felt his whole body topple and his head hit the floor as his legs gave way.

He'd succumbed.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh god, that was so…<strong>

**Random person: INSTEAD OF A FREAKING LEMON, YOU GIVE ME THIS?**

**Please, it has to be realistic… o,o**

**Random person: And what the hell? Is Matt dead or what? This is ridiculous!**

**Things will be cleared up in the next chapter, so do not worry! For now, just…take a deep breath and relax! Don't pass out though-**

**-Random person faints-**

**Damn, too late. Oh well, review for an internet cookie. Good or bad, you decide! Extra chocolate sprinkles for good ones. ^3^**


	8. Chapter 8: Resolve

**A/N: This story's about to get more dramatic from here. This is where the plot starts to occur. Yes, this story has a plot, and it's not all about them attending cooking courses and what's not. Hopefully things will get better from here. **

**P.S Thanks to all those to reviewed and favorited/ added this story to your alerts. I really appreciate all of the support so far. Keep the lovely reviews coming. ^^ You guys are the best.**

**Note: Woots! Holidays are here! –loud cheer- So that means more updating!**

**Okay, that's enough. Proceed on with the story! Don't let me stop you**

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><p><span>Eight<span>

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><p><em>In this world of hate and fear<em>

_Thee light shall come from afar_

_Glowing; shining_

_Giving your soul a taste of life_

_For they are_

_There;_

* * *

><p>"How bad is it, Doctor?"<p>

The doctor shook his head slowly from side to side, clutching the medical clipboard in his sweaty hands tightly. Feeling the eyes on him that were urging him to speak, he felt his throat dry and returned the gaze with a shaky smile.

"He's alive, fortunately," he began. "…though he's suffering from many serious physical injuries, they are not fatal. The main concern we have is that he lost a lot of blood, from the head wound, especially. We need to keep him here to keep an eye on him. His condition is stable now, however. Although it may deteriorate…"

"How long?"

"He needs to stay in bed for at least two weeks before he can be released. However, we still need to supervise his condition," came the reply.

Near nodded slowly, twirling at his snowy-white hair with his fingers. "May I see him?"

The doctor hesitated for a moment before giving the consent.

Without a word, Near got up from his crouching position on the floor and headed towards the ward with heavy footsteps. Pausing for a moment, he slowly swung the door open carefully, peeking inside the room. What greeted him was a red-haired man covered in numerous bandages and bruises, a drip attached to his arm. Closing his eyes briefly, Near walked over to the nearest chair and sat down, lifting up a leg and alternating the other so that he was in some sort of a crouching position.

Matt, upon hearing the door open, turned his head and met Near's gaze. He held it there for a moment, as if considering what to do. Near noted with a frown that his gaze was unfocused; uncertain. It was as if he was both disappointed and relieved that it wasn't Mello who entered the room.

"Matt," Near greeted him softly, playing with his hair.

"Near," Matt acknowledged with a brief nod, wincing at the amount of effort it took and the pain that shot through his body. "What brings you here?"

"Just wanted to see whether you were still alive and breathing."

"How is it?" Matt asked warily, his eyes half-lidded. "…My condition?"

"You have a lot of injuries that resulted in the loss of a lot of blood. You need to stay here to rest for at least two weeks," Near replied solemnly.

Matt removed his hand from his face, letting his hair fall. "I see. Where's Mello?"

Near stared at him. "You're still worried about him?"

"Yes."

"Roger's dealing with him now," Near responded, shaking his head. "You should worry more about yourself. The blow to your head could've been fatal."

Ignoring him, Matt tried again. "What about the cooking course? Is Mello still going to attend it without my presence?"

"He has to attend them still, though alone."

Matt exhaled sharply, feeling his vision blur. Straining, he tried desperately to tug at the drip attached to his arm. Near's eyes widened when he saw what he was about to do. Inching forward a little, he cautioned, "No, Matt. Stay where you are."

"I can't."

"You need to rest. This is serious." Near scrutinized him, his face void of emotion. "Your condition may deteriorate any time."

Pausing, Matt regarded him with a fierce look. "He can't survive in there without me." However, once he met Near's serious gaze, he stopped and pondered for a while.

"…Maybe he can. After all, I am but nothing to him." His voice was bitter, his expression crestfallen as he just stayed there, despite the pain he felt at the back of his head. He desperately needed to lie down.

"No."

Matt raised his head slightly.

Near breathed in slowly, never removing his fingers from strands of his hair. "You're wrong."

"…Explain."  
>"I saw him after you went unconscious. The look in his eyes. It was…different."<p>

Matt deadpanned, looking down at his hands. "But Mello…h-he must hate me now. After all, I was the only one who dared oppose him."

Much to his surprise, Near's lips cracked into a smile.

"You tried to change him."

Matt nodded, thinking that he was probably going to mock him for trying to do such a ridiculous thing.

Near looked at him thoughtfully. "Give him some time," he said after a moment of silence. "After this episode, he's bound to change."

Matt looked at him in disbelief. "Really."

"I know him better than you think. After all, he's been competing with me for _years_."

"I guess so…"

Seeing Matt's crestfallen face, Near looked up at the ceiling and thought for a while. "Well, he's not totally heartless. He has feelings and a heart, though he doesn't show it. He's just competitive and hot-tempered."

"Wow, you're really talkative today, Near," Matt remarked with slight amusement present in his eyes.

Near kept his face straight. "Please, Matt."

Chuckling, Matt's eyes lightened up and he casually placed both of his arms at the back of his bandaged head, ignoring the stinging pain. However, sadness slowly consumed his very being when thoughts of Mello resurfaced in his mind.

"…I don't know what to do anymore," he said helplessly, his eyes void of emotion.

"Matt," Near regarded him seriously. "Even though you've just met each other, I get the feeling that you are the only one who can change him; light up his life. Just give him some time."

Matt nodded slowly, registering the words in his head.

"Thank you, Near," he said, his tone grateful.

Near simply shrugged. "Welcome."

* * *

><p><span>Mello's POV<span>

The hell was I thinking?  
>I almost killed somebody.<p>

Not just anybody, but my fucking partner.

Am I supposed to care?

I don't know.

So here I am, in Roger's office, contemplating how to escape. But I can't, and that's what's pissing me off. Terribly. A part of me wants to go check on Matt and see if he's still alive, but a part of me wants to just eat chocolate and say, "Fuck it."

I think I have multiple personality disorder.

Stage ten.

I narrow my eyes as Roger takes a seat on his favorite old antique chair in front of me. I know I'm in hot soup, but I don't really give a shit. On days like these, I'm supposed to feel some sort of adrenaline rush, but this time, I feel nothing.

Well, what the hell am I supposed to feel? Sympathy? Regret? Happiness? Or, should I say, sadistic pleasure? After all, that bastard deserved it. He opposed me. Went against what I wanted. He even tried to teach me some life lessons, make things a little more dramatic. I don't like that. Not one bit. No one corrects _me_, second in Wammy's and smarter than your average university student. I repeat, no one does.

So what is this that I'm feeling now?  
>My throat goes dry, and I find myself avoiding eye contact with Roger. He raises his eyebrows at this, but does not comment on it. I feel like burying myself into a hole. Why am I being such a fucking coward? I did nothing wrong.<p>

…except land my partner into a hospital with perhaps, cracked ribs and a missing eyeball.

"Mello, I need a talk with you. Now."

"Aren't I already here?" I roll my eyes, biting off a chunk of chocolate with relish.

"Yes, but, is your heart and mind here with me? Or is it somewhere else?" Roger narrows his eyes even more.

My thoughts drift off to Matt, lying in his hospital bed. Half-dead, with his legs torn off. I don't know what to think. "It's all here, damn it."

"Good. Now we can begin." Roger stirs his cup of tea slowly with a spoon, making that irritating _clinking_ noise every time it met with the surface of the cup. "Tell me what you know and why you think you're being held captive here."

I think for a while. "I hurt my partner?"

"Correct."

I roll my eyes once again. "Get to the point, Roger. My patience is at its _fucking _limit."

Roger stares at me seriously. "Mello, this is serious. You almost killed him."

Finally, no more beating around the bush.

…Wait, did he just say, 'You almost killed him'?

So Matt's still alive. I see.

I snort. "So I take it that that brat's still alive." I take another bite out of my chocolate bar. Truthfully, I don't know what to feel. What to say. What to think.

Does that fool mean anything to me? Should I act as if nothing ever happened between us? Should I just get the cooking course over and done with, and then perhaps go back to ignoring him?

Roger's voice interrupts my thoughts. "Don't say that. He's still your partner."

I remain silent, feeling overwhelmed by the cloud of thoughts drifting in my head. _Ignore, care. Ignore, care. Ignore, care. Ignore. Care. Ignore. Care._

_Fuck it._

"Matt's a special individual, Mello. Appreciate him while you can. Don't let your temper tantrums affect him. He's already trying his best to deal with you," Roger warned. "It's not easy trying to communicate with you, in case you didn't know."

"Of course I know that," I snap impatiently. "It's just that I _hate_ people who oppose me. I don't like it. Therefore, I retaliate."

"…So I guess he's a first," Roger comments calmly, sipping his tea slowly.

Unconsciously, I let my fingers run over my bandaged forehead wound. It hurts like a bitch. I hiss softly at the pain. So is this what Matt feels now? A thousand of these all over his body meant hell.

"The very first," I admitted, not looking at him. My expression is strained. "I have never felt the urge to…so strongly hurt someone before. He dared to oppose me…" I trail off. What the hell was I saying? I'm Mello, god damn it. I don't regret my actions. Ever. I don't feel guilty about hurting people who go against me.

…

"Do I still have to attend that stupid cooking course?" I ask suddenly as the thought pops up in my mind. I am reluctant to go. I do not want to see that stupid, _slutty_ instructor again. Why do I hate her so much? Even I do not know myself.

But I do know for a fact that the way she swings her hips from side to side as she walks to our table is disgustingly revolting.

Maybe I am really gay.

…Wait a minute, this isn't the time to question my sexuality preferences. I'm dealing with a punishment here.

Roger nods. "Yes, you still have to. Without Matt, though. He needs to stay in the hospital for at least two weeks before he can be released."

_Two. Weeks?_

"They're exaggerating for just a small head wound," I snorted, folding my arms behind my head. "Seriously."

"Mello," Roger raises his tone a notch. "It's not small."

"Then?" I challenge.

"He lost a lot of blood and he can barely walk now. In fact, he almost _died. _The blunt object that you hit him square in the head with was a mini- stone statue that weighed almost seven kilograms. That's not something to be taken as a joke," he scolds me with a hint of aggravation in his eyes.

"So how is he alive now?" I stare at Roger, disbelief coating my face.

"Mere luck," Roger says blatantly, his eyes closed.

Damn, I really almost killed him. If not for the Mother Goddess of Luck, I would be on the way to jail now to get a death sentence.

"…So when is the next cooking session?"

Roger rifles through a stack of papers. "The day after tomorrow."

"The fuck? So soon?"

"Yes."

"What about the fucking punishment?" I let the word roll off my tongue.

"You have to stay with Matt when he's in the hospital. This is the best punishment that I could think of. You almost killed him, therefore you owe him your life," Roger explains slowly. "You have to accompany him in the hospital starting from the day after tomorrow, after the cooking session. As for today and tomorrow, you'll remain in your room to reflect on your actions."

I grit my teeth. "This…isn't _fair_."

"It is fair," Roger said sternly. "After what you've done to him. In your room, you have to write up a report on what you did wrong and how you are going to repent for your mistakes. The report must be at least five hundred words long."

I stare at him, my arms crossed into a defensive stance. "I refuse."

"MELLO!" Roger stands up abruptly and slams his fist onto the desk, making his cup of tea spill onto the floor. "YOU WILL ATONE FOR YOUR MISTAKES!" His sudden outburst makes me jump a bit. However, I am unshaken by his actions.

"Can't you_ fucking _get someone to take over my place?" I raise my voice higher, giving him my trademark death glare.

Roger settles down onto his chair, rubbing at his temple. "…I already did," he says after he has cooled down a little.

"Who?"

"Near. He's with Matt now."

I snarl loudly, raising my head.

_Anyone _but that brat.

"Fuck. No." I emphasize the syllables with my teeth and tongue slowly.

"IF you refuse to co-operate with me, I shall make him stay with Matt until he's released," Roger threated harshly, pointing a finger at me.

I stop for a moment and close my eyes for a bit, feeling my breath quicken. I try to calm myself down, but fail as usual.

"FINE!" I growl loudly, hissing between my teeth. "I FUCKING AGREE TO YOUR ORDERS! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW, YOU FUCKING MORON?"

Oh god, this is seriously pissing me off. In fact, nothing doesn't piss me off. Using Near to threaten me? This is all a sick joke. But alas, I cannot fathom the idea of Near being there instead of me.

_It's like he's mocking me for not being there._

Roger stares at me calmly, waiting for me to calm down. He's used to it, used to my outbursts. Knowing this, I send a glare his way, feeling the anger boil up in my chest.

"I'm glad you decided to co-operate," he says finally.

"Hn." I bite off another large chunk of my chocolate. Two weeks had better fly by, fast.

I am _not_ pleased.

* * *

><p><strong>End of another chapter!<strong>

**Random Person: What's up with all these angst and hatred? This was supposed to be a happy story! –growls-**

**IT will turn happy, after a series of events. Right now, their relationship is like a rocking boat, ever so unstable…**

**Random Person: You suck, dude.**

**I'm a GIRL! –smacks the idiot on the head-**

**Oh well, review for cookies! ^^**


	9. Chapter 9: Denial

**Keep the AWESOME reviews coming! I love you all!**

* * *

><p><span>Nine<span>

* * *

><p><span>Mello's POV<span>

* * *

><p>"Damn, what the <em>hell <em>am I supposed to write on this thing?"

I curse under my breath animatedly, feeling the profanities roll off my tongue with relish. Here I am, in my room. Holding a pen that's going to run out of ink, accompanied with a crumpled piece of paper.

…I should probably get that bastard to go buy a set of new ones for me.

I sigh and bite off a chunk of milk chocolate from a bar that I'd just unwrapped moments ago. I'm on my eighth bar of milky goodness now- it's been hours since I've been cooped up in here.

Yes, I am condemned to stay in this damned room for the rest of my fucking life.

…Wait, maybe not for eternity. Until I finish this cursed report, that is. Sighing, I slump onto my ever-so-comfy bed and rack my brains for ideas on what to write. Staring out of the window, I count the number of stars that are visible in the dark, misty sky.

I wonder what Matt's doing now?  
>That bitch probably hates me for landing him in such a state. Not that I give a shit, anyway.<p>

I chew on my chocolate slowly and direct my gaze back to the blank piece of paper, laid out in front of me. It basically just screamed, 'Write on me! Fuck me!' like a slut.

I must be going crazy.

I smirk to myself and shake my head free of thoughts. Now to get started on this report. If I can finish it on time, perhaps that old man Roger will let me off, early.

_It's because you want to see Matt, you dipshit!_

I jerk up from my position.

"WHO'S THERE?" I hiss, backing away. Oh god, I swear I just heard a voice. And it sounded very much like mine.

My doubts are confirmed. I _must_ be going mad.

Darting my eyes around the room wearily, I let the pen drop from my hands and strain to control the furious palpitating of my heart. Pulling desperately at the sheets, I contemplate using it as a parachute to help with my escape if something really pops up from nowhere and eats me.

Silence. I furrow my eyebrows and feel like a complete retard. Did Matt hit me too hard on the forehead? So I'm hallucinating now, aren't I?

_Relax, you damn idiot. I'm the voice in your head._

What the fuck?

I kick and scream furiously, clawing at the sheets desperately, trying to get under them. Holy fuck. It really _is _a monster. And it's in my head.

_I said relax, you asshole. Do you want people to think that you're insane?_

"I'm alone, you idiot," I choke out softly, feeling the sheets entangle in my disheveled, blond hair.

…Wait, now I'm talking to myself?

_Don't worry. You're not going insane. I'm just the voice in your head that provides you with valuable advice when you're in turmoil. Everyone has it in their head. They're just too reckless or mute to listen to it._

I relax a little. "What's your name?"

Fuck, did I just _talk_ to myself? Talk to my imagination? I feel like jumping off a ledge.

_Common Sense._

"Very funny." I get up from the sheets and stare into thin air. If this voice in my head is the cause of being hit in the forehead, I am _so_ going to kill that brat when I visit him in the hospital.

…_You won't._

I snort in disbelief.

_I can read your mind, Mello. After all, I reside in your head._

"Oh shut the fuck up. Just admit me into a mental institution already."

_I said, NOTHING'S WRONG WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING SHITHOLE!_

I flinch at the outburst. Dear Mother Of God, this voice is exactly like me. It swears and screams like me. Fortunately though, it doesn't think and speak like me. It's far calmer.

"Fine," I narrow my eyes and flare my nostrils. Reaching for another bar of chocolate, I unwrap it and ponder for a while. My heartbeat slows considerably. "…So are you my second personality, or what? Something like that?"

_The voice in your head._

"Oh, will you _fucking_ stop saying that? It's making me feel like I need help."

_You need help. That's why I'm here, you fool._

I wrinkle my nose. "I still can't believe I'm talking to myself."

_Whatever. Now, about Matt…_

"I don't care about him."

_Liar._

"The fuck are you saying? He opposed me. You know I hate people who do that." I clench my fists.

The Voice sniggers. Great, now it can express its emotions, too?

"What's so funny, you moron?"

_Matt's an exception this time._

I punch at the air, feeling like a complete dork as I do so. "I said I don't _fucking _care about him!"

_You were relieved when Roger hinted that he was alive._

"So? I'm just glad that I don't have to get a death sentence. Doesn't mean anything," I snarl loudly.

The Voice ignores me. _This proves that you care for him as a friend._

"Yeah, well," I hesitate for a moment. "He WAS a friend."

_Stop being such a jerk._

"And you stop being such a stuck-up hoe," I shoot back.

The Voice ignores me once again, making me feel like an idiot. _Another one. When Roger threatened you with Near, you were furious-_

"Of course. He's my rival, you piece of shit."

_But what are you two competing against, this time?_

I fall silent. Damn, this Voice knows how to hit the nail on my head. I don't even know how to reply to that.

"I just don't like the feeling…" I grit my teeth. "Near's presence is…it's like its mocking me…for not being present."

_It's just your protective instinct, you dork._

"What the hell?"

…_Nevermind. Anyway, you're concerned for him, and you feel a little sorry for having landed him in this state. That's all I want to say. _

"That's what you think. I have my own opinion."

_Say it then._

I rub my temple, feeling a massive headache coming on. "I don't give a shit about him. He challenged me and went against me- I hate him for that. He deserved it, saw it coming. When I first met him that day, I already knew that he was…special in a bad way."

_How special_?

"He behaved differently from the others. Different from Near, Roger, everything… He's so calm and relaxed that it makes me feel like I'm not even there." I close my eyes.

_So you think he's special?_

"Different, actually. And it fucking pisses me off." I frown and readjust my posture so that I'm sitting comfortably on the bed with my legs crossed. Sighing, I rest my chin on my hand.

_Actually, I think he's the only one who can put up with your shit._

"Oh, shut up." I resist the urge to roll my eyes for like, the tenth time.

After a moment of silence, the Voice pipes up, much to my annoyance. _So do you think he's mad at you_?

"Think so. And I don't care."

_I think I know what the problem is._

I raise my eyebrows questionably. "What?"

_You're in denial_.

"Denial? Of what?" I snap, irritated. "Like I said, I don't care-"

_See, that's the problem._

"Shut it, hoe."

_You shut it. You're being unreasonably ridiculous. He didn't do that hip-holding thing on purpose. Like he said, it was an accident. Yet you beat him up so badly._

Hearing the mention of that dreaded incident, my head begins to spin. Violently. My mind is in a mess. I don't know what to think. Was it my fault for being too sensitive? Or was it…

"He refused to listen to me."

_Oh fuck it, have a heart, will you? You're all about 'listen to me', and 'obey me'. Seriously, you're not King. You have no fucking right to boss anyone around._

I feel a sharp _pang_ in my chest. I dislike the feeling. "But-"

_I won't take being second in Wammy's as an excuse. That gives Near the excuse to be even more bitch-ier than you are._

"He's already a bitch." I exhale sharply, my head pounding.

_Yeah, whatever. So what do you plan to do when the time comes for you to visit Matt in the hospital?_

I feel my shoulders stiffen and I freeze instantly on the spot, my breathing rigid. Damn it, this voice in my head knows all of my weak points, and its attacking them like nobody's business. Slowly, I lower my body and let my head touch the pillow, rejoicing at the cool sensation. Involuntarily, I trace the outlines of the bandage on my forehead with one finger, my eyes showing no emotion.

I've never thought of that before, and its making me even more anxious by the second.

"Do nothing?" I offer softly, my voice cracked. I feel weird.

_What the fuck is wrong with you? You're supposed to apologize. You're in the wrong._

"But the problem is, I've never done this sort of thing before, and I fucking don't know how," I growl impatiently, downright pissed at the idea. Me? Apologize? That's just ridi-

_You're in the wrong. You should apologize. Stop acting like a fucking brat, twerp._

"What? A brat?" I fume. "Well fuck you, you piece of shit. I don't want-OW FUCK!" I yell as I accidentally prod my finger into the cursed bandage thing. Intense pain washes over me, and I find myself lying still on the bed, immobilized.

_Serves you right._

I ignore the Voice and instead focus on recovering from the pain.

_If you don't forgive and forget, that scar on your forehead will serve to remind you of your predicament. _

Damn, its persistent, that voice.

_I won't cave in until you do the right thing._

I am far too tired to argue any more. And I still have that goddamned report to complete.

"Whatever. Just help me out with this damn report thing."

* * *

><p><span>Matt's POV<span>

I hate this place.

I want to get out of here. I repeat, I want to escape from this wretched place.

Too bad that Near's being a wet blanket. He'd ordered me to stay in bed an hour ago and now he's leaving me alone here, to rot and writhe in silence. Not that I care, though. But the drip's pulling on my arm, and it hurts.

…Much as I hate to admit, I really, _really _want to see Mello. I do not know why, myself.

I want to apologize, but I'm not sure how to. Am I in the wrong? Should I?

I know for a fact that Mello won't apologize. His ego is too big and he has his pride to worry about. For now, I can only lie here on this hospital bed that reeks of medicine and think about what's going to happen.

When is he going to visit me, I wonder?

* * *

><p><em>Time Skip<em>

* * *

><p><em><span>Two days later<span>_

* * *

><p><span>Third Person's POV<span>

* * *

><p>Mello trudged into the kitchen grumpily, his forehead creasing as he eyed everyone present in the room, daring them to speak. The room instantly fell silent, having sensed the dark aura radiating from the young and slender blonde. The tension in the air dropped considerably, a feat that Mello would normally rejoice at, but this time, it was different.<p>

He ignored the looks that people gave him as they stared at the visible scar on the left side of his forehead and headed towards his seat, shutting the instructor's annoying voice out of his head.

He didn't say a word nor cared when she announced that they would be making banana pancakes. It was as if she didn't exist. Sucking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes and fought the urge to grab a frying and pan, throw it into her revolting face and run back to his room.

When the time came for them to start the pair work, he unconsciously glanced to the right, hoping to catch a glimpse of a certain red-haired gamer standing there, whistling as he prepared the batter. He didn't know what to think as he realized that he was alone now.

Cracking an egg with more force than necessary, he let his mind wander as he did so. He was visibly nervous and shaken- scared for later when it would be time for him to meet Matt.

He'd been thinking of what to say to him for hours. Torn between the decision to apologize or not care about anything else in the world, it was a hard decision to make. It wasn't easy for him to put justice before his pride; his ego.

Just when he was about to lecture himself for being so weak and what's not, a voice broke his chain of thoughts abruptly.

"Erm…excuse me," a middle-aged woman who Mello recognized as the lady who was seated at Table Six piped up softly.

"What?" he snapped, not in the mood for small talk.

"Your egg…it's spilled all over the table."

Stepping back, Mello refocused his gaze and realized with slight horror that the egg he'd cracked a moment ago was now dripping down the edges of the table, the mixture letting off a slight pungent, fishy smell which he disliked immensely. Ignoring the lady, he rushed to clean the mess up, cursing under his breath.

_You're not like yourself today._

Mello stopped in his tracks suddenly, shocked beyond words. It'd been quite a while since the voice in his head last appeared. After helping with the report, it had disappeared to god-knows-where, and he had presumably thought that it was gone for good.

He felt slight relief at hearing the familiar voice which had rebuked him for his actions a moment ago. He needed someone to talk to desperately- he felt like he was going insane.

_Really?_

_Really. You look like shit._

He smiled a little at the comment, not caring whether anyone was staring at him. Resuming his cleaning-up, he sighed. Thanks a lot, asshole.

_About later- don't worry much about it. Just apologize and get it over with. I'm sure Matt wants to apologize to you too._

_How would you know?_Mello raised his eyebrows. He'd given up questioning his sanity. Confiding in the voice in his head now was his only instinct, his only hope for assurance that he was doing the right thing.

_Like I said, you needn't worry about your sanity. It's natural. Everyone has a voice in their head, telling them what to do. Even Matt has it in his head. We're seldom wrong. We speak from conscience and experience._

Whatever. Mello stood up and tossed a dirty rag into the sink, proceeding to crack another egg into the bowl of batter, carefully this time.

_So I see you messed up._

He resisted the urge to snort, as usual, but he didn't say anything.

_It must be hard without Matt here to help you._

He ignored the voice with a flick of his hair.

_I wonder how you'll survive two weeks without him?_

_I'll manage. _Mello huffed as he poured the batter onto the frying pan he'd intended to throw at the instructor before.

_I'll return later after you're done with this cooking course._

_Good riddance_. Mello mentally shoo-ed the voice out of his head, giving a huge sigh of relief after he'd done so.

All this thinking was making him sick, and the fact that the meeting with Matt was less than two hours away didn't help at all.

The pounding in his head was worse than before.

* * *

><p><strong>End of another chapter.<strong>

**To make it more 'exciting', I decided to add a new item to the story: the voice in Mello's head! Yes, it's part of his conscience. And no, he's not going crazy, I swear. It's just something required in the plot, you know, to make him realize his mistakes.**

**In the next chapter, the first meeting between them after that horrific incident will commence! **

**Review and tell me your thoughts! Good or bad, you decide. Extra internet chocolate chip cookies for good ones!**


	10. Chapter 10: Shocking

**It's here!**

**Random person: FINALLY...Just kidding, no one missed you.**

**-smacks- Well anyway, let's proceed!**

* * *

><p><span>Ten<span>

* * *

><p><span>Matt's POV<span>

* * *

><p>Hello everybody. The name's Matt…and I'm calling for help in the hospital.<p>

Yes, I'm in need of someone to just rescue me- take me away from this damned place. Let me list at least five reasons why.

_Matt's list of extremely, EXTREMELY valid reasons why he needs to get out of here_

_1] No handheld games (I'm about to die here.)_

_2] No cigarettes (They don't even allow it. FML)_

_3] They took away my goggles to god-knows-where_

_4] This place reeks of medicine and plastic_

_5] I'm lonely._

Yes, I actually wrote up that list when I felt bored moments ago. How awesome is that? I'm planning to give it to the nurse who attends to me later. Wish me luck.

Speaking of which, reason number five made me really emotional. I mean, I felt sort of sick in a bad way. It reminded me of…

…of…

M-Mello.

Yes, you see. It's hard for me even to say his name now. It's been two days but I'm still cooped up in the hospital ward, left alone to ponder about what to say to him when I see him the next time. I know for a fact that he's mad at me, and it's highly unlikely that he'll come visit my sorry ass.

Near left just a few minutes ago, saying something along the lines of 'an unknown visitor who will change your life'. What the hell? I swear, that guy's as mysterious as ever. I can't figure him out at all. Now I can finally understand why Mello's pissed with him all the time.

That reminds me.

Why did that stupid, _stupid _doctor take away my precious goggles? I mean, I'm not Matt without it. I will never be. It's making me depressed just thinking about it. He said it was to protect my head from further injuries. What the hell?

I cannot stress this enough- I'm healthy. I'm still alive and breathing, for god's sake. They treat me as if I'd just lost a limb and both of my kidneys. Add a heart for good measure…

But I'd technically be dead, right? Considering my situation with Mello right now, I would be better off dead. And I'll rather be. What a drag.

…But it'll be worth it to take a risk, right? You know…escape? It's better than being stuck in this wretched place.

I smile slightly and dart my eyes around the room warily, making sure that the coast's clear. Moments later, I cease my actions and furrow my eyebrows.

Did Mello hit me too hard in the head? What the heck am I doing? I'm supposed to do all that cool spy-sneaking stuff outside when I'm about to attempt my escape.

Groaning, I push myself off the bed and wince at the sharp pain at the back of my neck. Ouch, it still hurts as badly as before. And I thought two days would be enough to heal all of my injuries. Silly me…

Oh god, if I want to escape, I'd better make this quick. Ripping out the drip from my arm, I ignore the stinging pain and trot towards the door (which is the only exit). I would consider using the window, but I'm far too injured to resort to that. Leaning against the walls for support, I literally drag myself towards the exit and place my shaky hand on the doorknob.

"So…close…" I gasp with the effort as I strain to twist it and open the gateway to paradise.

…

"GODDAMNIT-!"

Instead of heaven, much to my horror, I am greeted with this _thing_ clad in black which slams into me and sends me flying backwards at full force, knocking the wind out of me. I hit on the floor within seconds of being propelled into the air and see stars in my vision as I land straight on my butt.

Oh man, the pain…don't even get me started about it.

As I lie there writhing in agony and rubbing my sore ass, I forget all about the criminal who barged into my room like what zombies do in movies. They barge, grab, run and eat. Yes, just like in my nightmares.

The back of my head hurts like a bitch, and the bruises and scars all over my body are screaming in protest. That's what I get for trying to play hero.

Shit. I think that movie thing is coming true. The zombie is really going to eat me. I feel myself being picked up out of a sudden by something really strong. My collar is going to rip if this continues. Forcing myself to tilt my head downwards, I realize that the intruder is grabbing me by the fist.

A fist.

Is this guy superman or perhaps, my savior? Damn, I knew God was on my side.

As I contemplate whether to thank or hurl abuses at the mad _thing_, I raise my head and let my focus settle.

_Mirror, mirror on the wall_

_Who is this person holding me by the collar?_

Blonde and disheveled shoulder-length hair, narrowed cerulean blue eyes and slanted lips. This stranger looks so familiar, but I can't figure out who he is…

Oh, it's just Mello. Figures.

…Wait a minute, Mello? Mello is here…to visit me?

I feel my vision go blur as I stare into those beautiful blue eyes of his. I thought I'd never see them again. I don't know what to think or feel- is he here to beat me up again? Or is he here to apologize?

…That's not possible. The Mello I know wouldn't do that.

"Matt," a voice snarls quietly. My ears begin to ring as I strain to listen to this voice of his. It hasn't changed much. It's as rough and hostile as before.

…I wonder why I'm even thinking about this? I must be sick. What was that I had to do again?

…Ah, the apology. Figures-

"MATT!" Mello shakes me by the collar, snapping me back to reality. The pain I feel at that moment grows more intense, and I find myself biting on my own tongue to keep myself from screaming out loud. My vision clears and my ears stop ringing out of a sudden.

I eye Mello blankly, my face contorted with pain.

He speaks. "What the _hell_ are you doing on the floor? You're supposed to be in _bed_." His face portrays anger and confusion. His eyebrows and raised, and his lips are pulled downwards into a disapproving sort of scowl.

"S-sorry," I blurt out incomprehensively, gesturing at his clenched fist. "P-please let go of my shirt collar. It really hurts."

"Oh shit," he says quickly, releasing his hold as fast as lightning. I stagger back in utter shock, unable to regain my sense of balance.

I'm in a mess. Confusion is written across my pale face and I can hardly comprehend what I'm doing or even saying. My footsteps are wobbly, and my hands sweaty.

The tension. Oh my, it's intolerable.

Mello actually came.

To visit me.

Wow. So this was what that Near was blabbering about. It makes sense now.

Now I just need to find a way to stop this momentarily helplessness that takes away my sense of hearing and vision.

* * *

><p><span>Third person's POV<span>

* * *

><p>Mello stared in disbelief at the redhead who was now fighting to maintain his sense of balance. He was doing almost anything possible to stand, and it looked very much like acrobatics. Flabbergasted, Mello could only keep his arms firmly rooted to his side and stare at the scene before him.<p>

_He looks so…weak. He can hardly stand. _He realized with a guilty frown, but struggled to hide it moments after. He was at a loss of what to do.

If I save him, I'll look weird.

But if I don't…

_Save him, you idiot. He's about to fall_. The voice in his head propelled him back to reality and he immediately reached out his hands to grab the gamer who was within seconds of falling to the ground. Staggering, he struggled to maintain his hold and pulled him towards the hospital bed, settling him on it and heaving a sigh of relief.

Rubbing his aching arms, he glared at him, but softened his expression when he saw the man's sleeping face. It looked so peaceful, so innocent that Mello momentarily forgot his purpose for coming here. Plans of apology and what's not immediately flew out of his thoughts and he could only stand there, admiring the partner that he'd just beaten up days ago.

His face was badly bruised and there were bandages almost everywhere, clean and blood-free due to having been recently changed. He realized this with a sharp _pang_ in his chest, feeling the color drain out of his face. He'd been the cause of this.

The trademark goggles were absent and for a moment, Mello could hardly recognize the man who was laid out in front of him, as helpless as a rag doll. His hair was messy due to days of being untreated and scrubbed. The red glistened under the glaring hospital light, blinding him for a second.

Mello could feel his heart becoming softer and softer each day- and seeing Matt in this pitiful state wasn't any help. Much as he disliked it, Mello couldn't deny that he no longer bore the same hateful feelings towards this man. Whether it was regret or sympathy that made him this vulnerable inside, Mello couldn't explain this sudden change. He was confused.

"Oi, Matt," he began with bated breath, blinking to get a clearer view of the man. "What are-"

Seeing his still body, Mello's nostrils flared in disbelief.

Did he…just _fucking_ faint on me? 

_Sure did._

* * *

><p><em><span>Forty minutes later<span>_

* * *

><p>"W-what the hell? I can see Mini Marios dancing everywhere…"<p>

Mello looked up abruptly from a book he'd been reading since a while ago. "Oh," he said with slight alarm. "You finally woke up." His tone was wary and careful.

Matt got up from bed slowly, holding his head as he did so. The pain was too much for him to handle. Shaking his head, he opened his eyes and took in the sight in front of him.

_The table…the flowers…the lights…and Mello?_

Upon realization, Matt jerked up suddenly and turned to look at the chocoholic with startled beady-little eyes. In his hands were a bar of chocolate, as expected. "M-Mello." He felt his head spin as he said his name.

Mello narrowed his eyes. "You fainted forty minutes ago."

"Oh." Memories of what occurred moments ago came rushing into his head, adding to his headache. He grasped at his hair painfully, his face contorted with pain. His body stiffened from the sudden shockwave of pain, and he let out a tortured gasp.

"H-hey," Mello stood up suddenly and approached the man worriedly with outstretched arms, but let them drop hesitantly after he'd decided against it.

He cursed silently in his heart as he racked his brains, trying to find a suitable reason for his current actions. This was crazy and utterly ridiculous. He felt as if he'd committed a crime so huge that he had to repent for it by taking pity on this man. Rubbing his temple, he stood there awkwardly with his arms at his side. He wasn't used to being this caring for someone, and he didn't like it. He felt un-Mello.

Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it. Now what.

_Stop standing there like a useless pig, you dumb piece of shit. Go HELP HIM! He's in pain for god's sake. Are you inhumane? _

Mello stared bitterly at Matt and walked forward, but stopped in his tracks when the gamer held out a hand.

"Don't come closer," he managed, panting as he did so, wincing with the effort it took to speak.

Mello fought to hold back a sarcastic remark, but failed miserably. "And we all thought attempting to escape was good fun."

_Will you shut your dog mouth and just help him already? Your pride isn't important._

He ignored the voice and returned to his seat beside the hospital bed. He's fine.

And he was right.

Matt recovered from the pain minutes later, breathing heavily. Removing his hand from his head, he turned to face Mello. "S-sorry about that. My head hurt like hell."

Mello scowled. "You haven't recovered yet. That escape attempt was _fucking _stupid." He bit off a chunk of chocolate and chewed noisily, fighting to hide the worry that was plastered on his face just a moment ago.

Matt chuckled lightly, flinching at the pain. "You know what? I thought I'll never see you again, Mello," he confessed, looking at the chocoholic with a sheepish grin.

Mello's eyes widened and he almost dropped his bar of chocolate. He'd suddenly remembered about the apology, and it sickened him to the pit of his stomach. It wasn't like him to apologize to people, be it admitting his mistakes or confessing his wrongdoings. He'd been planning it for hours, but now, he felt like an emotional wreck.

But what's worse was the sinking blow to his chest which knocked the breath out of him. He'd spent so long worrying about Matt's reaction to seeing him ever since that incident, but this was totally unexpected.

Doesn't this guy hold any grudges at all?

"Don't you hate me or anything?" Mello asked incredulously, his breathing halted to a stop.

Matt blinked. "Umm…no. Why? I should be the one asking you that," he said accusingly as he pointed weakly at the stunned man.

Mello backtracked, and all he could do was stare at the redhead in shock. "Me…?"

"For opposing you…and stuff…" Matt trailed off, gauging the blonde's reaction with a tense smile. Fighting to control the violent palpitating in his chest, he inhaled deeply. "I have something to say to you, Mello."

"Wait, no, fuck no," Mello blabbered incoherently as he stood up suddenly, gesturing towards Matt's bruised and battered body with shaky hands. "This is messed up. I was the cause of all this," he held his breath. "…and you don't feel any hatred towards me at all? For the pain? The hurt?"

Matt stared up at Mello, shocked beyond words. "…Not really. It was my fault, right? I tried to change you," he forced a smile despite the stinging pain he felt at the corner of his lips.

Mello remained silent, his eyes unfocused. Millions of thoughts swarmed in his head- how to apologize, what to do, and what to say.

_He's just putting the blame on himself because he doesn't want you to feel bad, _the voice warned. _You were originally at fault. You should apologize._

Fucking how?

When the voice didn't reply, Mello exhaled sharply, closing his eyes. It was best to get it over with and not drag the issue any more.

He'd initially expressed disgust at apologizing for his mistakes, but his feelings towards that matter slowly changed over time. It wasn't hard to face up to that idea now, but the main problem was acting on it. It was like a challenge he had to take in a million years.

It was now or never. He could feel his gut burning with nervousness.

"Matt-" he began shakily.

"Mello-"

"I'm sorry." The two men chorused at the same time, much to their horror.

Both of them jumped simultaneously when they'd realized that they had said the exact same thing, apart from the names. Mello could only stare at the gamer with wide eyes and clenched fists while Matt could only gape at him with an equally shocked expression plastered on his face.

The awkward tension in the air had risen to above infinity.

And it wasn't good.

* * *

><p><strong>It's ten-thirty…and I'm exhausted. This chapter was so hard to write! I had to occasionally read through what I'd written and worry about whether it made sense or not. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes! <strong>

**Random person: Make…them…kiss…and…make…up…already…god!**

**They will in the next chapter…finally. This drama is getting kind of…tense and boring, eh?**

**Random person: Hmph! Readers, review on who's opinion do you support! Kiss-And-Have-Smex-Already Me, or I-Like-To-Drag-Stories Her! –points accusingly- THIS MEANS WAR!**

**-rolls eyes- Oh, well. Review for cookies! ^^**


	11. Chapter 11: Plans

**Updates: I'll be lea****ving for a vacation soon, so I won't be able to update for about a week. My sincere apologies. But I promise I'll be back soon!**

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><p><span>Eleven<span>

* * *

><p><span>Mello's POV <span>

* * *

><p>Damn, this is downright ridiculous.<p>

I'm supposed to be the one apologizing, aren't I? So why is this idiot- I mean, Matt, apologizing? Seriously.

And don't even get me started about the whole 'we said sorry at the same time, how's that?' situation. It's far too cliché, god damn it. If he's just trying to cover up for my mistakes, I won't let him do that.

I spent _two whole days _troubling over the whole apology issue, and now it's like my effort's wasted, all over again. I don't know why I even tried. After mustering the courage to apologize to him, I was briefly shot down, and that angered me big-time.

And the ironic thing is, we spent about fifteen minutes in the hospital ward 'arguing' over whose fault it really was. I'm really pissed now because of what occurred later on. The nurse came in not long after we'd started fighting and told me I had to leave because I was a 'disturbance to both doctors and patients alike'.

I was ready to sock her in the face there and then, but Matt was there and I didn't think that he would approve of me abusing his caretaker. So I left reluctantly after that.

Roger heard about what happened and he's not really happy with me right now. In fact, he sounded really angry on the phone. He told me to stay in my room for the rest of the day and to visit Matt on the next day instead.

I tried to protest, but my efforts were futile (again, darn it). So I just went along with his orders and now I'm currently cooped up in my room, just like two days ago.

I asked him what to do in here just a moment ago and he said, "Go and let your hot-fuzzed brain cool down first before taking a step into that hospital ward. I don't want a repeat of that chocolate bar incident."

He's no fun.

Groaning, I push myself off the bed and crawl towards the bathroom hurriedly. Ever since I came back from that wretched hospital, I've been feeling not-so-good in the stomach. I feel as if my intestines are coiled up into giant fists of balls and my stomach's intestinal juices are being mixed together with vinegar.

_Argh…too much info. _The Voice speaks again, much to my irritation.

That thing's been haunting my thoughts ever since the nurse told me to leave. I kind of dislike her, seriously- she reminds me of that cooking instructor bitch. It could be the same blonde hair that they both have, though I'm not sure.

_You have blond hair too, you idiot._

Ignoring the Voice, I stumble into the bathroom clumsily and grasp the edges of the toilet bowl, retching as I do so. Fuck, I feel really bad right now. I wonder how Matt is able to survive in that hellhole.

Speaking of which, the mention of his name really angers me now. And to think that I still have to face him tomorrow. Darn it, why can't he just give in and say that I'm at fault? I obviously am-

_You've never admitted your wrongdoings before. And so strongly this time, in fact. I'm surprised._

"Shut up," I hiss, silently cursing the Voice in my head. I hope it hears the profanities that I'm hurling at it. That bitch. Doesn't it know when to shut up?

Oh dear, I feel another wave of nausea coming at me, again.

I barf into the toilet bowl instantly, feeling the insides of my stomach coil up. There goes the chocolate bar that I ate not long ago.

After my vomiting has ceased, I turn away from the toilet bowl which currently stinks like rotten fish. Coughing, I fight to stop another wave of nausea from overwhelming me and get up to flush it. As I watch the contaminated water swirl down the drain hole, I feel a sense of unexplainable glee.

Yes, flush all of my insecurities and troubles away. Shaking my head, I let a smile play on the edges of my lips. I won't give up so easily. I won't let my efforts go to waste. If Matt won't admit that I'm at fault, I shall make him do so, with every ounce of strength that I currently possess. I clench my fists with determined resolve and walk out of the toilet, feeling much better both physically and mentally.

_Seems like you've finally realized the value of his existence._

I ignore it and get to work. "It won't be long now."

_Before_? The Voice expresses curiosity.

I remain silent and settle down onto an office chair, resting my chin on the arm which I've placed on my desk. I'll leave the Voice to figure it out.

And it did, a few seconds later.

_MELLO! I WON'T LET YOU DO SUCH A THING! _The Voice roars loudly. I flinch.

"And why not?" I roll my eyes and reach my hand out to grab another bar of chocolate.

_YOU WILL NOT, I REPEAT, YOU WILL NOT BREAK HIM OUT OF THERE! THE IDEA ITSELF IS ALREADY AS RIDICULOUS AS IT IS. THE REASON FOR YOUR ACTIONS WILL NOT HELP AT ALL._

The Voice is furious. I fight to maintain my self-control.

"There will be many advantages to doing this," I say calmly. "I don't see why you should refuse."

…_Are you doing this because you feel sorry for having hurt him?_

"No," I snap immediately, lowering my hand. "It is to make us even, the both of us."

_Why are you doing this?_

"If he won't admit his faults, I will just have to put him in a situation where he has no chance to object. The signs will point to me- that I'm the one who sinned and am now repenting for it. It'll put us on equal terms; we don't owe each other anymore. Having achieved this, he will have no choice but to accept that it is my wrong doing, leading him to believe that he's innocent."

_That's stupid,_ the Voice retorts in my head. _You've seen his situation today. His condition is not stabilized yet. It's risky to proceed with your plans. Also, what about the consequences? Roger will-_

"I don't care about Roger. I believe Matt's recovering. I'm sure you've seen him – he looks way different than the last time I saw him." I say with a firm gaze.

_You're too impulsive. That's the problem._

"Shut up. I know what I'm doing."

* * *

><p><span>Matt's POV<span>

* * *

><p>I have a really, really, really bad feeling about this.<p>

Mello acted really weird just now. After we'd argued over who was wrong and who was right, the nurse who attends to me every day came in and told him to leave. What makes me kind of scared is that he just left without a word.

The Mello I know wouldn't have done that.

I think I'm going crazy. If he actually did that, he must be planning something really weird now. I don't know what, but it's making me more anxious every passing second.

Is he angry that I didn't admit that it was his fault and not mine? That's strange. Since when was Mello so…I mean, that apology really shocked the hell out of me.

All I know is that, he's planning something right now. Something tells me that it's not going to be good.

I'd better call Near.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the short chapter! I promise I'll be back with more.<strong>

**Stay tuned to find out what Mello's plan is and whether it will work out!**

**Random Person: Revieeeww for a Matt plushie!**

**Get your hands off my doll. -smacks-**


	12. Chapter 12: Accusing

**I'm back! Phew.**

**Random person: Took you long enough.**

**Shut the hell up! I was tired, okay? Vacation and stuff. -Throws **_**it**_** off a cliff- **

**Random person: -dies-**

**Okay, now on with the story. This chapter's a bit…crazy and stuff, but the plot's still there, I promise. Oh well, onto the story!**

* * *

><p><span>Twelve<span>

* * *

><p>Mello gave a loud grunt as he tilted his head back and stretched his arms with relish, hearing the sore joints in his arm crack. Beaming with satisfaction, he adjusted his leather boots before puffing his shoulders up and lifting his head up high. There was an invisible aura of pride radiating off him as he placed his gloved hand gently on the rusty metal doorknob, careful not to leave any fingerprints or stains.<p>

_You guilty freak._

Mello ignored the voice as usual and took in a deep breath before keeping his focus straight. This mission was important. If he failed it, he would lose his dignity. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out what would happen if he did.

_You'll go to jail for this!_

_Shut up, bitch. _He snapped in his head.

_I'll call the cops. How's that, dick?_

Upon hearing the supposedly intimidating threat, the chocoholic let a smug smile play on his lips. The very idea was downright ridiculous to him. He wanted to shoot something witty back, but his nerves were getting the better of him. He could feel beads of cold sweat on his palm, and thanked God that he was wearing leather gloves. It was so that his cover wouldn't be blown in an instant.

Surreptitiously, Mello tightened his hold on the doorknob and twisted it open with slightly trembling fingers, careful not to make any noise. If Matt was sleeping, it would be a bonus; it would make the whole mission thing easier. If he was awake, however…

_Who cares. He's too dumb to know what I'm about to do anyway._

_Mello, you stubborn piece of shit! I said turn back!_

_Too late, _Mello thought to himself as he swung the door open and tiptoed inside with light footsteps. There was an edge to his movements as he stealthily closed the door, relieved that the only sound produced by his act was a tiny _creak_.

Breathing heavily, he turned his head and felt the cold rush of air hit his face. The nauseating smell of medicine and what's not instantaneously hit him square in the face, and he winced at the pungent stench. Ignoring it, he let his eyes dart towards the person currently residing at the hospital bed.

Surprisingly, Matt had at least four Band-Aids removed already, and only small scars were left on the places that were once covered by the stretchy plastic. Mello noted this fact with a satisfied nod, relieved that the mission would be easier for him.

_He's recovering fast._

_He's still injured, you prick._

Scanning the rest of his build, Mello took note of the places which still needed extra care and mentally made a note to himself to not accidentally touch them later. The last thing he would want was to end up with an unconscious, whiny Matt. After all, his efforts would be thrown down the drain (again) and he would lose his chance to prove that he was the one at fault, not him.

When his stare got to Matt's facial features, however, he jumped a little as two bright-green eyes stared back at him, wide and clearly amused. Mello could hardly catch his breath as he felt the hairs on his arm rise, reminding him of how nervous he felt there and then.

He swallowed his saliva as Matt stared him down with puckered lips.

"Um...Mello?" he said uncertainly.

It was then Mello realized that he was still holding on to the doorknob, both arms tied behind his back. Loosening his hold quickly, he cast a look at Matt, warning him not to question it further.

"Don't say anything," he huffed, his glare pointed.

Matt's eyes narrowed and he nodded slowly before turning his back on him, his position on the bed slightly tilted at an awkward angle. His legs were far too long- they almost reached the end of the bed. This made turning while sleeping awkward for him, but he didn't show it. Feeling a slight sensation of pain at his lower abdomen, he ignored it and closed his eyes.

_It doesn't hurt as much as last time,_ he noted with a slight smile.

On the other side of the room, Mello watched warily as Matt seemingly dozed off into dreamland, his eyelids twitching and his breathing slightly rapid. Shuffling his feet forward, he stopped hesitantly and blinked his eyes slowly a few times.

It was then he wondered to himself whether he would be able to support Matt's weight. He seemed like a heavy guy- not in a bad way, but due to his tall frame.

_Aha, caught you off-guard._

Mello ignored the voice in his head and continued to walk towards Matt with slow footsteps. He reckoned that the rigorous muscle work-out sessions he had once a week would make this weight-lifting thing easy for him. After all, he worked out, and he had muscles. Nothing was too big a challenge for him.

Suddenly, without warning, Matt straightened his body up from his sleeping posture and eyed Mello with slightly accusing eyes. Mello backtracked a little, his eyes widened.

"Mello," his voice came out raspy as he pointed a finger at the blonde. "You can't fool me. I know you're up to something."

_Oops,_ Mello thought as he stared at the gamer in disbelief, the shock stilling his body. He contemplated knocking the redhead out and making a run for it, but decided against the cowardly idea. Instead, he turned away brashly and folded his arms, hmph-ing as he did so.

"You think too much," he shot back with a defiant look on his face.

"Then what's with that cloth-mask thingy on your face?" Matt demanded shakily as he glowered at the chocoholic. "You look like a _cereal _killer." He immediately made the shape of a bowl with his hands.

Mello staggered back. Shit. He knew he shouldn't have worn the half-mask. The cloth wrapped around the lower half of his face made him look far too suspicious. His cover was blown. He racked his brains, thinking of a smart come-back.

_Hahahaha. That's what you get._

_Shut up, sadistic bastard._

"Uh, I've got the flu, that's why," he said after a moment of awkward silence. "Can't risk-"

Then, something occurred to him. He let his eyebrows shoot up with disbelief.

"Matt," he said slowly, eyeing the redhead with an exasperated look. "Are you kidding or are you just plain fucked-up?"

Matt stared at him with his mouth wide open, the look on his face innocent to no end. He maintained the shape of a bowl with his hands still, his eyes wide. "What did I do?"

Mello returned the gaze, his nostrils flared. "Seriously? _Cereal_ killer? You do know that it's serial-"

"OH!" Matt piped up cheerily, a wide smile plastered on his face. "If it's not cereal killer…is it _fruity-loops_ killer?"

Mello fought back a snort and the urge to face-palm on the spot. "I don't _believe it_."

Matt folded his arms. "Well, I'm sure Near would," he growled bitterly, not looking at the chocoholic. Upon hearing his name, Mello let a low growl resound in the depths of his throat, startling the gamer. "Don't mention his _fucking _name," Mello demanded, his face hot.

"Hn," Matt looked away childishly.

"…I'd better get this done quick," Mello muttered as he headed towards the gamer with loud footsteps. Reaching his hands out, he made a grab for the redhead. "Come here, Matt…"

Seeing Mello with his arms outstretched and advancing towards him, Matt's eyes widened with horror and he staggered back on his bed warily, his hands clutching the sheets so hard that his knuckles turned white. "Go-go away! What are you going to do to me?"

Mello shrugged. "I'm going to make you admit that it's my fault." He stared at the petrified gamer with bated breath. Since the redhead was already questioning his actions, he knew that his cover had already been blown. He found no need to hide his intentions, and was impatient to get along with it.

Matt edged away from Mello's hands instinctively. "Get away!" he squeaked as he got closer and closer. He felt like he was being strangled in the throat. He knew this would happen, and he knew Mello wouldn't give up without a fight. He was right to be worried- he was going to die there, in the hospital room. Without anyone to pity him or save him…

He stiffened when he felt two arms being wrapped around him rather gently, and he felt like his heart was about to pop out of his chest at any moment. He was dead. And he knew it. His days were over.

"Don't touch me!" he grunted and tried to wriggle out of the chocoholic's grasp, but his attempts were futile. "You monster! I knew it! I knew you would come here to settle the debt!"

Mello dodged a kick aimed at his face as he held Matt down onto the bed with firm hands. "Shut up and don't make things difficult for me," he hissed as he let one hand trace Matt's collar, and with swift movements, he started unbuttoning his shirt that the hospital provided him to wear. "This'll be a nuisance…better remove it."

Matt jerked and struggled violently, ignoring the stinging pain he felt on his wounds which were now red and raw. "S-stop taking off my shirt! You pervert!" he almost screamed. His words were cut off by Mello, who placed a hand on his mouth to silence his cries.

"Shut up," he gritted his teeth as he used the other free hand to take off his own leather jacket. "I have to hurry…"

Matt could feel the butterflies in his stomach flying about. Seeing stars in his vision, he aimed punches at anywhere possible, hoping to hit the assailant square in the nose. In this case, it was Mello, however; his cooking partner, partner-in-crime and also, the one who landed him in the hospital ward in the first place.

"Y-you evil villain!" Matt cried out, his voice muffled. "You want to harm me!"

Mello rolled his eyes and dodged another blow aimed to his face. "I'm not going to kill you, Jeevas," he declared as he shrugged out of his jacket, exposing his bare, finely-toned arms. "I'm not going to rob you, either. So just relax and let me get this over with."

"I-I know your true intentions! You cannot hide _anything_ from me!" Matt barked loudly as he struggled some more.

Mello rolled his eyes once more. This man was impossible.

"Fine, then what are my intentions?" Mello challenged, struggling to pin down a crazed Matt.

Matt panted loudly, never ceasing his squirming-around antics. "You-" he edged away as Mello tried vainly to remove his already half-unbuttoned shirt.

"…You want to _rape_ me!" Matt croaked out finally, his face red-hot. "You _rapist!_ You want to make me submissive and all that so I'll admit that you're the one at fault…you stupid _devil_!"

Mello stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide and his breathing halted. He felt his heartbeat slow to a stop as his mind struggled to comprehend the two words that Matt had just shot out of his mouth.

"I'm…a _rapist_?"

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><p><strong>Mello must be shocked out of his wits…<strong>

**Random person: -dies a second time due to blood loss- I LOVE YOU!**

**O.o Well, that's a first. Anyways, Near may or may not appear in the next chapter! It's up to you guys to guess…kukukuku. **

**Review for cookies. ^^**


	13. Chapter 13: Tell me all about it

**It's here! Dun dun dun…**

**Random person: OMGOMG so are they like, going to rape each other or what? **

**Whut? O.O"**

**Random person: Oh, nothing…just thought I'd ask. –Disappointed shrug-**

**o.e …Whatever. Onto the story!**

Thirteen

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><p><span>Mello's POV<span>

* * *

><p>...<p>

Okay, I am totally offended.

And by that, I mean _totally_. That bastard- I mean, Matt, just labeled me as a pervert. I mean, I'm so misunderstood. I just thought it'll be a good idea to let him wear my jacket so he won't injure the wounds on his arms any further. But that stupid piece of shit actually thought that I was _stripping_ for him.

Stripping? Seriously? Do I look like a _fucking _stripper?

As I stand a few centimeters away from the hospital bed watching Matt wrap his arms around his bare chest defensively, I contemplate mauling him. Does he think that I'm interested in his man-boobs? I'm straight, goddamnit. Besides, it wasn't my fault that the half-unbuttoned shirt suddenly ripped open in between nowhere. If you ask me, it was because of how fat Matt is, and not because of how gay I am.

_Ha. Ha. Ha._

I ignore the ever-so-helpful voice in my head and turn to look at Matt with my arms akimbo, the leather jacket still in my hand. He meets my frustrated gaze with a sharp frown, and with steady movements, he edges as far away from me as possible.

I resist the urge to face-palm. "For the fucking last time, Matt, I am not gay and I'm not the least interested in your hairy chest. "

Matt relaxes his stance a little, but still eyes me with a wary look on his face. "How believable," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. A few moments pass by and I don't say anything. Truthfully, I don't even know what to say in this situation.

Suddenly, he pipes up. "But Mello-"

"What." I snap loudly, my face contorted with rage. I am still unable to get over the assumption that I am gay.

He pauses as though for dramatic effect. "…Do I have a hairy chest or are you just saying that in a stubborn fit of anger?" his voice is soft, as though afraid that I might judge him for saying such a thing.

I let my arms fall. "The latter," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Ah…" Matt drifts off, his gaze unfocused. It's as though he's pondering about the universe. A few moments later, however, he pipes up again. "…But you're still gay, Mello."

I feel a vein pop in my forehead. That fucking bitch. Just because my actions looked wrong, it doesn't mean that I'm now a sex-crazed freak who has a fetish for men. I don't swing that way.

"Look, Matt," I say in exasperation. "Stop calling me _gay._ I swear that I wasn't trying to rape you or anything. Do I look like that fucking sort of guy? For goodness sake, I-"

Matt interrupts my rant. "You stripped," he accused, looking away abashedly.

"I was just taking off my jacket, you sick pervert. God."

"Err…well, you tried to unbutton my shirt," he challenged.

I resist the urge to punch him in the face. "I just thought two layers would look kind of weird on you, you idiot. This jacket's kind of big."

"So you admit you're fat?" Matt snickers rather bemusedly, much to my irritation. I glare at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Fuck you, Matt."

"That's not going to help your case," Matt shrugs, but winces at the effort. "…Ow, my head."

Just as Matt lifts his arms to grasp the sides of his head, I cannot resist letting my eyes dart down to take in the sight of Matt's newly-exposed chest and body. I used to wonder about what was under those clothes of his- would he be buff and tan, or stick-skinny? I didn't get a chance to find out just then while the tussle went on, but now I finally have my chance.

Now, if you're thinking, 'Oh my god, you're officially gay for Matt', you'd better take that back before I shoot your fucking face off. I just want to compare his body and mine, get it? I'm not interested whether he has an eight pack under those clothes. I just want to see if I'm as buff as him, or whether I am lacking in that area.

Now that I see it, he has quite the well-built body frame. Under those clothes lie a finely-toned chest and a solid-hard eight-pack. Much as I hate to admit it, he has an _amazing _set of abs. I used to think that he the gamer sort of guy who didn't work out much. But it looks like I'm wrong now. Great.

I am so jealous that I can hardly make a sound.

_Fuck, he probably doesn't work out as much as I do. But he's on par with me, and that's so fucking ridiculous that I can't-_

_Dude, you're just jealous. Stop being so competitive._

_Damn it. Do I have to increase my training schedule? _

_No. You're just fat, Mello._

_That's not true. I have a god-damned eight pack too, bitch!_

_Suit yourself-_

"Erm…Mello?" Matt's voice interrupts my mini-argument with the stubborn voice in my head. "What are you…staring at?" he gaps me with a startled look on his face.

To my horror, I realize that I am still staring at him, my eyes fixed on his body like nobody's business. Oh god, this moment should be implanted into the definition of the term 'bad timing' in the dictionary. Fuck. My. Life.

Clearing my throat, I look away quickly, trying my best to hide my now burning-red cheeks. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it! I came here to carry out my mission to make Matt admit that I'm guilty and all that, but now I'm caught in this kind of awkward situation. There is absolutely no way to talk myself out of this. I am doomed.

And now I will be labeled as a homosexual for the rest of my life. Fuck.

Speaking of which, that reminds me. I have a mission to carry out, and I have wasted enough time bothering myself with this gay shit. Gathering my thoughts together, I slant my eyebrows and take a determined step forward.

"Uh, Mello," Matt instinctively cowers and wraps his arms around his body. There is an edge of fear in his voice.

However, I ignore him. Keeping my gaze straight, I take another step forward.

Matt's eyes widen with fear. "Please don't start. Are you going to try and rape me again?"

I feel a vein pop in my head, but I resist the urge not to scream and carry on moving forward, the jacket still in my hand. I am determined to succeed on my mission this time. I will not let myself be distracted any further, and I will not respond to his questioning of my sexuality, much as I would like to sock him in the face.

Remember, Mello. All for the result-

"Don't come any closer. A-are you gay, Mello?" he asks warily. However, seeing that no reaction is provoked out of me, he edges backwards in fear.

For every statement he makes, I respond by taking a step forward. Closer and closer. I'm about to reach him- my goal, my target. If I manage to keep my mouth shut firmly and exercise self-restraint, perhaps there is some hope that I can do this after all. I have been waiting for this moment…

"M-Mello, get away!"

"I'll tell the whole world you're a homosexual if I get out alive, I swear."

"Please, not so close…"

"Don't do this!"

"Is there any reason why you're doing this?" his back is against the wall now.

"No! Don't touch me, you fucking pervert!"

I'm right beside his bed now. With quick movements, I reach my hands out for his hospital shirt. Yes, it's already unbuttoned. It'll make everything easier for me. Thank god for my lucky stars that the rest of the buttons popped by themselves. Now, I just need to put this jacket on him…

"Mello, please, god no! FUCK! ARGH! D-DON'T TOUCH THAT SPOT, its SENSITIVE!" his face is really red now. He thrashes about wildly, trying to avoid contact with my fingers. In response, I jump on him and use every ounce of my strength to pin him down, gritting my teeth as I do so. God damn it, this is really tough. I can feel beads of sweat dripping down my face…

Okay, call me ridiculous, but as we're struggling about now, I've noticed that Matt's pants are gradually slipping down to his legs, bit by bit. Whether or not the hospital gave him too big of a size to wear, I'm not sure. All I know is that this isn't looking good.

Does he wear underwear? I hope he does. If not, everything will be exposed, and I will be literally _dead_.

As I dodge a kick aimed to my face, I watch in horror as his overly-long hospital pants start to pull itself down automatically, exposing a bit of his thighs. What the hell is happening? I can't even comprehend the insanity of it all-

"Mello you horny bastard, are you pulling my pants _down?_" Matt chokes out in pure terror. He's producing cold sweat now. I can feel it radiating off his body. As I dodge his attacks and strain to hold him down, he lets out an indescribable sound of exasperation.

"I _knew _it…you really intend to rape me," he sniffs quietly, much to my mortification.

For god's sake, it's not me who's pulling his pants down. How is it my fault that his pants are so mother fire-trucking loose? They didn't come off just now…but why now, god shitty damn it! It's making things so fucking hard for me. Like this, I won't be able to get him to admit that it's my fault. All those planning and debating would go to a waste. Again. Damn it, I won't have that.

As the struggling gets more intense, I watch as Matt's pants start to slip downwards more with every movement. Thank god that he's wearing underwear. If not, I would be blind by now. And how would I explain-

"Mello, you horny piece of shit," Matt pants feverishly. "…F-FINE! I ADMIT IT'S YOUR FAULT, OKAY? I'M TOTALLY INNOCENT AND ALL THAT! ..."

…What the heck?

" HAPPY, YOU STUPID GAY FAGGOT? NOW WILL YOU JUST STOP PULLING. DOWN. MY. PANTS?"

I cease my actions suddenly, and Matt takes the opportunity to push me off him. I land on the floor with a loud thud, but I ignore the searing pain that tears through my spine.

He…admitted that it's my fault? So that means…my mission is complete? This is going so fast that my mind is unable to comprehend it.

So now what? Am I still going to continue with my plans…no wait, I shouldn't. I already got what I want. Now what's left is…

"That's it." Matt interrupts my jumbled-up thoughts. He reaches for something in the drawer beside the hospital bed. "I'm calling Near to hurry up and come save me."

…

Near.

_Near._

_Near._

"Near," I blurt out. I am on my feet in seconds.

I am so mad that I don't even know what to say or what to do, for that matter. I keep my fist clenched with unbelievable force.

"You. Fucking. Called. Near?"

* * *

><p><strong>Oh shit! Another cliff-hanger… -guilty-<strong>

**Ok, I seriously need to get shot for the 'pants slipping down' part. The idea just popped up in my mind out of a sudden. Oh god, this chapter has to be rated M. There are far too many suggestive moments…and sorry for any spelling or grammatical mistakes! I have a pounding headache right now…**

**Random person: Marry me? ^o^**

**Ok, now that's just downright scary.**

…**Review? For…erm…butter, I guess… **


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